Little Town By The Sea
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: AU. Serial nomad Ruth Evershed finds herself in a little town by the sea, wondering if this could be her home. She meets the gossipy but kind townsfolk who all seem to want her to stay and all seem to want to know everything about her. But what of the gruff and somewhat mysterious police chief? His dark hazel eyes seem so soft...
1. Chapter 1

**Little Town By The Sea**

"Afternoon, all. Ros has a new lodger!" Zaf announced, doing his daily delivery of sandwiches and gossip to the police station.

Jo's face lit up. "Is that so?"

Ros glared daggers at the charming market worker from down the road. "That is none of your business, and how do you even know?" she asked angrily.

"I helped her carry a suitcase over that horrible stone walk you've got," Zaf replied.

With a sigh, Ros explained, "My grandfather installed that walk himself, and I won't have you criticize it. But my lodger's name is Ruth. She's very quiet and seems sweet and intelligent and has a great respect for privacy which is why I allowed her to move in, despite the cat."

The police chief came from his office to get his own sandwich and heard the end of his deputy's story. "Good lord, Ros, a cat?"

"I need the rent money," Ros muttered in annoyance.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Younis. Back to work, all," Harry said gruffly.

Jo put a gentle hand on Ros's arm. "I think it's good you've got someone. Fiona and Adam and I have been worried about you all alone there after what happened with your dad."

Ros pulled her arm away. "Yes, thank you. I'm glad you've all been so concerned following the incarceration of my treasonous father," she snapped.

The police station settled back to their normal workday, everyone avoiding Ros and her bad mood.

Across town, Ruth Evershed was getting settled into her newly rented room. "There we are. Home sweet home," she announced, sitting on the edge of her freshly made bed. A large gray cat hopped up to nuzzle against her. "Fidget, I do hope you'll be nicer to Ros when she gets home from work. She's been very kind to us, and it won't do to make enemies in a new place. You know better than that," Ruth scolded gently, giving the cat a scratch behind the ears.

She sighed, staring out the bedroom window and into the garden next door. A man was running about, kicking a football with a little boy. His son, presumably. They had the same blonde hair. Ruth smiled. It was nice to see happiness around her. It was why she wanted to move to a small town like this. The people were always more welcoming and more apt to let her find her home amongst them. And as Ruth watched the boy and his father play, she couldn't help but hope that perhaps this might be the place where she did finally find friends and a home of her very own.

Ruth had been in town three days now. As she had more than once over the years, she had closed her eyes and pictured what sort of place she wanted to be and did her research to find somewhere that fit. And this little town on the Suffolk coast seemed to have everything she was looking for: seaside charm, small community, secluded but not backward, quiet and calm.

She took the train in with a trunk of her prized possessions, a single suitcase of clothes, and a carrier for Fidget. That's all she needed. She took a room above the local pub for two nights before she found a room for rent posted on the board outside the town hall. Ros had seemed standoffish but keen to have a lodger.

Once her things were settled for the time being, Ruth decided to take a walk and see more of the town and its people. So far, she'd only met the innkeeper at the pub, the nice lad who helped carry her suitcase, and Ros. And, as was always the case with her nomadic existence, she'd need to find herself a job.

Ruth had barely gotten out the front door before she was greeted by a friendly voice. "Hello, are you Ros's new lodger?"

She turned to see a beautiful woman about her age with olive skin and short, dark hair waving at her from the house next door. "Hello, yes. I'm Ruth."

The two women met in the middle of the lane. "Fiona Carter. I run the hair salon. So sooner or later you'll meet everyone in town coming and going from our place. My husband, Adam, and our son, Wes, are off playing in the garden."

"Football, yes. I'm afraid I can see into your garden from my room," Ruth admitted.

"Well, I'll have to remind Adam that we can't sunbathe in the nude anymore," Fiona teased.

A blush crept into Ruth's cheeks as she laughed. It was odd having someone be so friendly so quickly.

Fiona could tell she may have overstepped. "Sorry, I don't mean to keep you. I'll let you go about your day. But you're welcome for tea anytime. All my clients enjoy the company. We're sort of an open house," Fiona explained.

"Thank you," Ruth replied sincerely. "I was going out for a walk, get the lay of the land, a bit. On my way back, I might drop by?"

"Please do!"

Ruth smiled. "Right. Thanks."

The two women parted ways. Ruth was of two minds about the interaction. It warmed her to be welcomed so graciously by a neighbor. But if everyone was so friendly, so...nosy...perhaps this little seaside town wouldn't be the place for her after all.

Harry tried as much as he could to get out of the police station after lunch each day. He knew from experience that he tended to get himself buried in work and lose track of the time. And it wasn't good for anyone that the police chief be blocked off from the rest of the town.

He had a path he liked to take, down by the cliffs overlooking the sea. There were a few empty cottages on the lane that had overgrown gardens and peeling paint that Harry always found comfort in. Sometimes their little seaside town was just a bit too perfect and put together. And after so many years in the army, witnessing death and destruction, it was strangely comforting to see a bit of imperfection amidst the clean meticulousness of the rest of town.

But for the first time, Harry saw another along his path. Not in the mood to socialize, he quickly turned down another street. He glanced behind him to see a woman wearing a long, dark skirt blowing in the breeze. Her dark hair fluttered around her pale skin. And, even wearing her coat, Harry could see a rather lovely feminine form. He was too far away to tell any details about her, but he didn't recognize the woman. Probably a tourist. It was a bit early in the season for them, but they always had a few here and there. But strange she should be alone. This lane, he always thought, could be quite romantic. He'd never had a beautiful woman he'd wanted to bring here. But wasn't it odd this woman didn't have anyone to walk with, to hold her hand and take her in their arms and shelter her from the ocean breeze.

Harry shook his head, dispelling the strange reverie. He continued his walk and made his way back into town.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth did as she promised and stopped by Fiona's after her walk. She knocked on the door, trying to ignore the anxious pit in her stomach, like she was imposing on the kindness of strangers.

The door was opened by a young boy who, Ruth was rather certain, was the only person who could look up at her instead of down. "Hello," the boy said.

"Hi, are you Wes? Your mum invited me for tea. Is this a bad time?" Ruth asked nervously.

A very tall man appeared behind the boy. "Fi told you to drop by, yeah? You must be Ruth."

"Yes," she replied awkwardly.

"Come on in. I'm Adam, this is Wes. Welcome to town. You been here long?" he asked pleasantly, leading Ruth through the house.

"A few days. I just moved in next door this morning, actually." Ruth followed Adam through the bright foyer and into the kitchen.

Fiona's voice sounded through the halls, "Is that Tessa here early? I'm not quite finished with Colin yet!"

"No, it's Ruth. Tessa called earlier to reschedule," Adam told her.

"I bet you she's shagging that banker from the city again," Fiona shouted back.

Adam laughed. But he saw Ruth's terrified expression. "She means Tessa, not you."

"Tessa's not nice. Uncle Harry made her go away," Wes chimed in.

"We're a small town. No one has secrets here," Adam explained.

None of this made Ruth feel any better. She didn't quite have secrets, per se, but she valued her privacy. She wanted a quiet life. Where people would leave her in peace. No, this really wasn't going to be the place for her.

Adam got started making tea and Wes sat beside Ruth at the kitchen table, staring at her. She couldn't seem to stop wringing her hands.

"Do you like to read?" Wes asked suddenly.

"Oh yes, more than anything," Ruth replied immediately.

"Have you read Paddington Bear?"

Ruth's whole face lit up. She couldn't help it. "I loved that book when I was your age."

"Can you tell me about it?" Wes asked.

But before Ruth could launch into a discussion of the kindly bear and his lovely ways, Adam interrupted, "Wes, you stop that. Sorry, Ruth, he's supposed to do a book report for school, and he thinks he's clever and can get you to do it for him."

Ruth smiled kindly. "I think it is rather clever that you're trying to find an easier way to get your homework done, but you really must do it yourself. You're the only one who thinks like you. And if you don't think for yourself, how will anyone ever know what's in your head?"

Wes pondered that for a moment as Adam brought the tea things to the table. Just then, Fiona joined them in the kitchen.

"Perfect timing. If Tessa isn't coming in, that means I'm all done for the day." She kissed her husband sweetly and ruffled her son's hair before turning to their guest. "Hello, Ruth. I'm so glad you came by! Did you have a nice walk?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm afraid I got a bit lost. I ended up on a lane overlooking the cliffs. There are some lovely houses over there, though they look a bit worse for wear," she admitted.

"Oh those are the old vacation houses. It used to be rather popular for the London elites to have summer homes on that street. But then other places became more fashionable and those little houses got left vacant. I'm not even sure who owns half of them now," Adam said.

Ruth smiled softly. "They're absolutely beautiful. Everything in town is lovely but there was something about that street I really liked. But otherwise, I've found the market and the post office and the pub and the town hall and the police station."

"Ah, our old haunt," Fiona said dreamily.

Adam grinned. "We used to be coppers. Fi retired when Wes came along. And I got shot in a break-in last year, which put me into retirement as well. So now we've got the salon, and I coach the town youth sports teams. Football and rugby and cricket."

Ruth was probably reading too much into Adam's words, but she was suddenly worried. If Fiona opened a salon out of her home after leaving the police force and Adam had taken to coaching children's sports, did that mean there weren't any other jobs to be had? Never mind whether she wanted to stay here, perhaps she'd be forced to leave. She only had enough saved for about two weeks of rent and living expenses before she needed to find a way to make money.

The four of them sat around the table, drinking their tea and chatting politely. Ruth explained that she had been traveling most of her life, taking jobs where she could as a librarian, a shop assistant, a medical clerk, or whatever else she could find. It allowed her the freedom to experience new things and explore the world. She talked about how she'd found Fidget in Normandy, shivering in the cold in a way that made him look like he was fidgeting, and she just fell in love with him, taking him with her everywhere on her travels.

The whole Carter family seemed fascinated by her tale. But Ruth wasn't fooled; she knew how it all looked. She was a small, nervous, frumpy woman who lived life as a nomad but still the most interesting thing about her was the fact that she had a cat named Fidget. This was why she sought privacy. Too many questions invited too many judgments, and Ruth just couldn't abide the looks on their faces.

"Thank you for the tea. I've abused your hospitality, I'm afraid," Ruth said, standing up from the table.

"It was our pleasure," Fiona insisted, glancing to her husband, silently asking what they'd done to elicit Ruth's retreat. "And I'll ask around in town tomorrow about job openings, if you don't have anything in mind yet."

"No, I hadn't really started looking yet. I know I should. I...um...just something temporary. If someone's sick or has a broken leg and needs a replacement for a few weeks or...something," Ruth replied, babbling slightly. She fixed her gaze on her boots beneath the hem of her skirt.

Adam walked Ruth out to try to ease her obvious discomfort. "It was really lovely to meet you, Ruth. Thanks for coming 'round for tea. And don't let Fiona and Wes and me scare you off. This really is a nice town, and I, for one, hope you stick around."

Ruth paused in the doorway and looked up at him. "You do? Why?" she blurted, unable to stop herself.

"Because you're different. And we could all use a little something different around here. Some more than others. But I bet if you give it some time, the town will give you a reason to stay."

On that cryptic note, Ruth thanked Adam again and hurried down the walk and into Ros's house next door.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Ruth decided to go into town and do a bit of shopping. Ros had been kind to her, though rather quiet, and Ruth thought perhaps it would be nice to have dinner made by the time her landlady returned home from work. Ruth didn't actually know what Ros did for a living, but she seemed to keep very regular hours, leaving early and coming home just before supper time.

She saw a familiar face at the market. "Oh, hello. You're the one who helped me with my case, aren't you?" Ruth asked upon seeing him stack cans on a display.

The young man smiled brightly. "Yeah, hi! Zafar Younis. Zaf. You're Ruth, right?"

"Yes," she replied, trying not to be bothered that he knew her name without her having said it.

"Well, this is my shop, and I am here to service your every desire."

Ruth's eyes went wide but upon seeing Zaf grinning, she laughed. A full belly laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed that much. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me," she apologized once she caught her breath.

"You reacted just right, Ruth," Zaf assured her. "Ask anyone in town, and they'll tell you never to take me seriously. Just want to make sure everyone's having a bit of fun," he added with a wink and that winning smile.

"Well in that case, thank you, I'm having quite a bit of fun."

Zaf helped Ruth find all the things she needed to make a meal for herself and Ros. Having enjoyed her interactions with Zaf, Ruth asked him if perhaps he were in need of some temporary help in the store. "Sorry, I'm afraid I can barely afford to keep myself employed here," Zaf told her.

Ruth nodded, trying not to feel too disheartened. She would have liked to work with Zaf, perhaps. Ah well. She'd find something somewhere else. "If you know of anyone who needs a hand or you hear of anything..."

"I'll let you know."

She smiled. "Thanks. I think I may like it here, but I don't know how long I can stay if I can't find a job," Ruth admitted.

"Well I want you to stay, so I'll be sure to find you something."

Ruth thanked him and paid for her groceries before making her way back to Ros's house.

When she arrived, Fiona hurried out of her house, calling Ruth's name. "Ruth! I'm so glad you're back! I've found you a job!"

Ruth was surprised but quite pleased. "You did?"

"Yes! The police station needs a dispatcher. Well, technically they don't need a dispatcher because there's only three cops and not much ever happens around here, but it's in the budget to have a dispatcher to answer phones and keep the station managed. If you go in at two this afternoon, the police chief will interview you, and I'm sure he'll give you the job on the spot."

"Oh that sounds perfect, thank you so much!" Ruth replied, genuinely pleased.

Wes came outside to see what his mother was up to. "Mum, can I have some ice cream?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I'll come get some for you in just a minute," she told her son. "Ruth, you go by the station later and tell Harry I sent you."

"Harry?"

"Police chief. Don't let him scare you too much," Fiona warned wryly.

Wes grinned. "Mum used to take me to see Dad at work, and Uncle Harry would let me spin in his chair. But we don't get to go anymore."

"Daddy and I don't work at the police station anymore. But maybe we can go visit Ruth at work when she's there. I bet she'll have a chair that you can spin around on," Fiona told her son with a wink to Ruth.

"Well I haven't got the job yet. But if I do, Wes, I promise you can come visit me anytime," she told the boy kindly.

Ruth then thanked Fiona again for her help and returned next door to get things in order for the rest of the day. She had a bit of time to smarten herself up before her interview with the chief of police. She had never been the most glamorous of people, but she knew she could do better than an old jumper and a skirt with a slightly frayed hem. Ruth found a blouse she quite liked—a red Spanish floral pattern—and a different dark skirt, this one in pristine condition. She ran a brush through her hair and put on just a bit of mascara and a subtle lipstick. Just enough to be presentable.

Then, of course, Ruth made the mistake of giving Fidget a bit of attention and telling him all about her day, about Zaf and Fiona and Wes, about how nervous she was to work in a police station—if indeed she did get the job—and about how she was strangely excited for the prospect of doing something completely new. All her jobs before had been rather menial, which she hadn't minded. Working in a library and putting books away and assessing late fees gave her plenty of time to read all she wanted, with everything at her fingertips. Being a clerk at any number of shops gave her strict shifts that allowed her to fill her spare time with hobbies of cooking or watching old films or, yes, more reading. But this job might be different. This job had the potential to be exciting and, dare she dream it, important. Certainly, this town was quite small and they probably didn't have much crime to worry about, but nevertheless, being the one to answer an emergency call did provide a bit of thrill and gravitas. Ruth had been searching her whole life. For what, she was never sure, but always searching. And doing something new had the potential to become just what she was searching for.

And by the time she'd finished her monologue of insight to Fidget, she was covered in cat hair and it was already three minutes to two o'clock. Even if she ran to the station, she'd be a bit late. So that's just what she did, hoping the speed of her movements would blow the cat hair off her.

Ruth arrived at the front entrance to the station, slightly out of breath. A woman in a police uniform looked up from a desk. She was young, mid-twenties probably. Her honey blonde hair was styled in attractive waves around her shoulders. She regarded Ruth with a slight expression of surprise and Ruth realized she'd never before seen anyone who so perfectly epitomized the expression 'doe-eyed.' "Can I help you?" the woman asked kindly.

"Yes, sorry. Fiona Carter sent me to speak with the police chief at two, and I'm afraid I'm a bit late," Ruth answered sheepishly.

"Oh, let me tell Harry you're here. I'm Jo, by the way. Constable Jo Portman." She stood up to shake Ruth's hand.

"Ruth. Lovely to meet you," she replied with a smile.

Jo went to a door just behind her desk to inform Harry that Ruth had arrived. Ruth saw the man himself though the window into this office as he rose from his own desk and made his way to greet her. "Come along, we'll talk in the interview room," he said gruffly, not offering any other form of greeting.

He wasn't a very tall man, which surprised Ruth a bit. From the way Fiona and Wes had talked about him, he'd seemed like he would be tall and thin and kindly. The man in front of her was none of those things. He was about a head above Ruth, which wasn't saying much. He had a broad bulk about him that exuded power, hidden beneath a very well-tailored black suit with a perfectly neat blue and white striped tie over his crisp white shirt. And beneath the slightly wispy straw blonde hair on top of his head, he had dark hazel eyes and very plump, pouty lips shaped into a scowl. A formidable-looking man to say the least.

Ruth followed him quickly, stumbling a bit in her haste. He heard the scuffle and turned to look behind him, question evident in his eyes. Ruth just grimaced slightly in embarrassment.

She followed him down a long hallway. On one wall were three jail cells, all empty. At the end was a door through which Harry led her. She scolded herself to notice that he had a rather nice-looking bum beneath those elegant trousers of his. Ruth blinked herself back to propriety as she entered the room through the door he held open for her.

Harry gestured to a chair for her at the table, and he sat in the one opposite. On Ruth's side, the table had a metal bar across the top. For handcuffs, presumably. Harry had taken her to the room where they interviewed criminal suspects! He was trying to intimidate her, surely. Well, if that's the sort of game he wanted to play, she wouldn't participate. She would hold her own. Police Chief Harry couldn't scare her.

Ruth took her seat and sat tall. "I've got my CV for you, if you'd like." She reached into her purse and tried to pull out the folder in which she kept all such important things. But in retrieving it, she somehow spilled the purse's entire contents onto the floor. "Oh bugger me," she swore quietly, trying to gather everything together. She sat up immediately with wide eyes, praying he hadn't heard her. He didn't say anything, but she thought she detected the slightest hint of a smile and a sparkle in his eye. She passed him the CV without any further comment.

"Ruth Evershed?" he asked, skimming the page.

"Yes, that's my name. I don't know if Fiona knows my last name. But that's what it is. Evershed," she babbled. So much for not being intimidated. The man sitting in front of her was making her distinctly uneasy, despite her efforts to remain calm.

Harry nodded, his eyes raking over her face. He couldn't quite tell how old she was. Her hair was dark, not a gray in sight. Though she may have dyed it. Her skin was pale and soft-looking, and she had a number of lines around her eyes and mouth, though not enough to indicate whether they'd been caused by age or by stress. But her eyes were something else altogether. The stormy blue-gray was bright with intelligence and ancient with the weariness of the world. Harry quickly looked down at her wringing hands as they sat on the table in front of her, behind the handcuff bar. Best not to stare that way at a potential employee, though he was loath to cease his examination of her.

"I'm sorry I haven't got references. I travel around a lot, you see," she explained weakly. He'd been staring at her an awful lot, and she didn't want to comment on it. Best say something else. Best not think about how she liked the way he stared at her.

"Can you answer a phone and take down notes?" Harry asked, his gruff tone back in full force.

"Certainly," she answered with a nod.

"You can make coffee?"

"Depend on what sort of maker you've got, but I'm sure I could manage."

Harry's lips quirked upward at that response. "How do you fare in a crisis, Ruth?" he asked, finally getting to the one question that really intrigued him.

"I'm not sure, actually. I've never stayed anywhere long enough to have to deal with a crisis," she replied truthfully.

Harry nodded, accepting that response. And really, that was fine. Their little town rarely saw any real emergencies. "Why do you move around so much?" This question had nothing to do with the job of police dispatcher, and Harry knew it. But Fiona's description had intrigued him. Ruth wasn't what he'd pictured when he had heard about a slightly sad, timid woman who'd moved all around Europe with nothing but a cat and a trunk full of clothes and books.

"I've never found anywhere I wanted to stay," she said, again with more sincerity than he'd expected.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

Ruth's gaze focused on her hands. "I just want to settle down. Find a place where I can…where I can belong. Live a life and just…I don't know, just find my way, I suppose."

"And you think that might be our town?"

The softness of Harry's voice caused her to look up and pause for a moment. "I don't know. But I would like to find out."

A true smile, soft but more than just the hint from before, crossed Harry's face. "Can you start tomorrow morning at eight?"

"Of course," Ruth replied with a smile of her own.

"And do try to be on time. We get more calls before nine in the morning than we do all day."

Her eyes widened, knowing her own tendency for tardiness. "Is that true?"

"Well, you'll just have to find out, Ruth," he teased. Harry stood up and led Ruth back down the hall to the main station lobby. "Jo will get you sorted with the paperwork. And I will see you tomorrow as close to eight as you can possibly manage."

Ruth grinned. For the first time since she'd arrived in this town, she felt truly pleased to be there.


	4. Chapter 4

Ruth returned to her rented home feeling strangely elated. She'd never had a worse job interview—Harry was utterly terrifying and yet utterly intriguing, leaving Ruth feeling insecure and babbling like a fool—and yet she'd never been more excited for a job. Most of her jobs before had been solitary, other than the fleeting customer interaction she occasionally had. That had been by choice; she never stayed anywhere long and so she'd never wanted to get attached. Now, though, she felt ready to settle somewhere, maybe here, and she was looking forward to working in a team-like atmosphere. The police station seemed the perfect place for that.

Her good mood continued as she set about making dinner. Ruth had decided to make an array of different dumplings. Mixing filling and sealing the little dough envelopes was strangely soothing to her. She was midway through by the time Ros returned home.

"Oh you cook, do you?" Ros said by way of greeting.

"Sometimes. But I wanted to make dinner for the two of us, if you don't have other plans. You've been so kind to let me stay here, and I hoped I could say thank you for giving me the room," Ruth replied, once more hearing the words tumble out of her mouth before her brain could slow enough to collect them.

Ros just looked at her with slight disdain. "Alright. We can have dinner. But you needn't feel like you should cook for me. I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, despite what most of this town might think, and you aren't indebted to me for letting you stay here. You're paying rent. I'm not exactly taking you in off the street for nothing."

Ruth nodded in return, not wishing to say anything else stupid to raise Ros's ire. By the time Ros had changed out of her suit and into more comfortable clothes, Ruth had dinner on the table. She fed Fidget before sitting down with her landlady.

Ros had opened a bottle of wine for them to share, which Ruth very much appreciated. They didn't toast to anything. Ros just dug right into the meal. "This is quite good," she said with slight surprise.

"I'm glad," Ruth replied softly, sipping her wine to hide her proud smile. "How was your day?" she ventured.

"Fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. And yours?"

"I got a job today," Ruth announced.

"Oh?"

She nodded, swallowing her food before telling Ros, "Fiona worked it out for me. Apparently she and Adam used to work on the police force, and she's still got a bit of pull there. I had my interview with the chief of police today. I start tomorrow as dispatcher."

Ros's fork clattered onto her plate. "You're going to be police dispatcher? Answering emergency calls and such?"

"Erm...yes, it seems that way."

"Oh thank god!" Ros exclaimed. "I cannot believe Harry finally agreed to hire someone! Now I won't have to answer the bloody phone anymore!"

And that was how Ruth discovered that Ros was a detective sergeant. She was the officer missing from the station when Ruth arrived earlier; Ros told her that there was a disturbance where some old woman was concerned someone was going through her bins and asked the police to investigate. Ros managed to catch the culprit: a rather overzealous badger.

"Is that all I have to look forward to? Badgers being naughty and a quiet little station with just you and Jo and Harry?"

Ros snorted in a bit of sarcastic laughter and proceeded to explain how things at the station worked. She was the only detective and did most of the proper police work, as little of it as there was in town. Jo handled walk-ins and usually was the one to answer the phone. Adam had trained her before he left, and Ros hadn't really needed to take up the task. She brought Jo along to most of her investigations because she could use the assistance, and Jo was always so eager and enthusiastic to be part of anything going on. Ruth noticed a certain fondness in Ros's voice as she spoke of the rookie uniformed cop.

"And what about Harry? Do we call him Harry? Or Chief Pearce or...?"

"Harry. He doesn't like titles. Just Harry. Though he is a knight of the realm, so Mayor Towers often calls him Sir Harry out of respect."

"How did he get knighted?" Ruth asked, surprised someone in this small little town had such a lofty title and beyond intrigued that the man who had interviewed her just a few hours earlier was so much more impressive than she'd ever dreamed. Though it did make a bit of sense. She'd noticed how he carried himself with that air of importance and dignity.

"Harry was in army intelligence most of his life. Apparently he did some rather important covert missions and he's saved the world half a dozen times over. Or at least those are the stories my father used to tell. Rumors, really. But Harry moved here about twenty years ago with Jane after he was discharged for being too old for the really dangerous things. "

"Jane is his wife?" Ruth felt a small knot of anxiety in her stomach at the prospect for heavens knew why.

"Ex-wife. Jane and the children left rather soon after they all arrived, actually, and he's been here on his own ever since. They divorced after she took Catherine and Graham to London, leaving Harry as the grumpy middle-aged bastard we know and love."

"Do his children come to see him?"

Ros shrugged. "I've never met them. They all moved here when I was away at school and by the time I came back, Harry was alone. But I think he talks to his daughter on occasion. I hear she's almost thirty now. Harry never talks about his children. Or Jane. Or much of anything that isn't work related."

Ruth felt immensely sad to hear all of that. To think that the rather intense yet quietly kind and teasing man she'd met that day had been abandoned by his family leaving him alone with seemingly nothing but his job...it was a feeling Ruth knew quite well, even if she was usually the one doing the leaving.

Determined to learn more about this fascinating man who would be her boss, Ruth made a mental note to try to earn his good graces soon. She changed the subject with Ros, and the two of them had a surprisingly pleasant conversation about Oxford, where both Ros and Ruth had attended around the same time. They finished eating and shared the task of cleaning up the kitchen before spending the rest of the night in their respective rooms. Ruth made it an early night. After all, she had to be up early for her first day.

At six past eight the next morning, Harry looked up from his desk to see Ruth hurry inside the police station. She was wearing a dark coat in the cool spring morning, and Harry realized upon seeing it and her windswept hair that Ruth was the woman he'd seen on his path by the cliffs a few days before. He watched for a moment as Jo helped get Ruth situated, ever more entranced of this mysterious woman.

Harry's phone rang, and he turned away from the window to answer it, lest the activity outside his door distract him from whatever Towers was prattling on about now.

The call didn't last long, however, and he was once again left to his own devices as he went about with his day.

It was absolutely fascinating, how a person could seem perfectly at home yet supremely uncomfortable all at once. Harry knew he was being ridiculous, that he should be paying attention to the mountain of paperwork in front of him. But in the three hours since she'd arrived in the station, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the woman sitting at the front desk of the police station. Ruth Evershed. What a curious creature she was.

Harry's office had a large window that allowed him to survey the goings-on in the rest of the station, and he tried to look around at everyone as he normally did periodically each day. Ros was rarely at her desk, but when she was, like now, she was in the corner almost outside his view with a permanent scowl on her face as she focused on her computer screen.

Jo's desk was almost directly in front of him, so he constantly looked up to see the back of her honey-blonde head. She was tall and willowy, not unlike Ros, though the two women were nothing alike. Though, to Harry's pleasure, his two police officers shared one very important thing in common: a dedicated desire to serve and protect their little town and all its inhabitants. Harry couldn't be prouder to lead his tiny department of brilliant women.

Ruth, though, the newest member of their team—and who knew how long she'd last, with her track record—was at the very front counter, which wrapped around from the station entrance. Depending on where she was seated, he could see her profile or look at her straight on. Both views were horribly distracting. There was just something about her creamy skin marred with faint lines of discontent, her blue eyes boring into the soul of whatever she surveyed, her dark hair softly curling around her elegant neck. Her movements were deft yet harried. She knew precisely what she was doing at any given moment, though it seemed her mind was conducting her in a thousand different ways. Harry couldn't seem to look away. He wasn't sure he wanted to. There was so much depth to her, such mystery resisting being solved, and as a cop, there was nothing he craved more than to unravel a puzzle against all odds. He had a yearning to discover every little thing about Ruth Evershed. Why, he couldn't quite say. But the fascination was there, deep and unyielding as he watched her settle in on her first day at the station.

She lifted her head, sensing his eyes on her. Ruth met his gaze and paused for a moment before a small smile spread on her lips. She looked away and pushed her hair behind her ear. Harry looked at her before turning his chair in another direction, lest she look up again and find him with a nearly-giddy grin.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time five o'clock rolled around, Ruth was shocked the day had gone by so quickly. Ros tapped her fingernail on the counter next to Ruth and announced, "Come along, then," which indicated it was time for them to head home.

Ruth grabbed her coat and said goodbye to Jo—who worked a later shift than both Ros and Ruth—and gave a small wave to Harry, who was still in his office behind his window. Harry just nodded politely in her general direction.

On the way back to Ros's house, they stopped by Zaf's market to pick up something for supper. Ruth watched as her landlady and the young man got into a bit of a verbal sparring match. She honestly couldn't tell if they were teasing each other good-naturedly or if there was an actual animosity between them. Zaf seemed to have a perpetual smile and Ros seemed to have her perpetual scowl. She didn't quite know either of them well enough yet to know what was genuine or not. Time would tell.

That thought caused Ruth some pause. Since when had she interacted with people and resolved to give it time for her to figure them out? She hadn't really wanted to give anyone or anywhere that sort of time before. Perhaps she was settling in much quicker than she'd imagined.

"Ros, if you don't mind, I think I'm going to take a bit of a walk before dinner. You needn't wait for me," Ruth said, bidding farewell to Zaf as she hurried out of the shop.

Zaf frowned as Ruth dashed off. "She's a bit odd, isn't she?"

"Impossibly so," Ros sighed.

"I like her," Zaf proclaimed

Ros rolled her eyes. "You like everyone."

"No, I mean it, there's something rather sweet about her. Kind and soft and rather…sad."

"She's a bit like a deer. Timid and skittish and quiet. Perfect lodger, actually."

Zaf laughed. "You like her, too!"

"I'm not unhappy she's here, no. She fills the position at the station that I hate doing, and she pays me rent," Ros replied delicately.

On the other side of town, Ruth had found her way once again to the little lane with the beautiful old houses she'd liked so much. The feel of the ocean air gave her a sort of calm she'd needed. A bit of peace to herself to think.

Being alone, however, wasn't in the cards. She rounded the bend and came nearly face to face with someone in her path. "Harry!" she exclaimed.

"Hello, Ruth," he greeted in slight surprise.

"Do you live around here?" she asked.

"No, actually. But I like walking this street. It's peaceful. I try to take a walk after lunch, but the day just got away from me, so I thought I'd take the long way to the pub for dinner before I go back in to the station," he explained.

"That's an awfully long workday," she noted.

"There's work to do," he replied with a slight shrug. "Tell me, how did you enjoy your first day?"

"Oh it was wonderful," Ruth said with a smile.

"Not too boring for you?"

"Well yes, the phone didn't ring once."

Harry nodded knowingly. "It usually doesn't. Don't take it as a reflection on you. I assume you found other ways to busy yourself? You seemed quite focused whenever I looked up today."

Ruth smiled at him before averting her gaze down to her shoes, equal parts delighted and embarrassed that he'd taken any time during the day to look at her. "I was just getting acquainted with things. I…erm…reviewed old police files."

"Find anything interesting?"

"I did see why Ros is renting a room in her house," Ruth replied delicately.

Harry hummed knowingly. "She wasn't too pleased when I had to arrest her father, but corruption and bribery of a public official is a serious business. It was hell only having Jo and myself in the station during the time Ros was out taking care of the family."

"Everything's alright now?"

He nodded. "Ros came 'round eventually. Believe it or not, she's always been prickly like this. I'll admit I do pick up more of the slack to allow her a bit more leeway now and again. But we're a small station in a small town. We manage."

She frowned, thinking. "Would it make more sense for me to work a different shift? Surely someone needs to be at the station at all times. Is there a night shift? I can't imagine emergency calls only happen between eight and five each day."

He chuckled lightly, pleased at her keen enthusiasm. "We do have a night shift. Young lad named Dmitri minds the desk from ten at night until seven in the morning. Jo and I cover the time in between, and Ros is always on call. If anything happens in the dead of night, she's the one who goes out to investigate."

"I can work longer hours, I don't mind," she told him.

"We'll see how best to use your talents, Ruth. This was just your first day. You might decide you don't want to stay. It wouldn't suit for us to redo our shift schedule only to lose you in a few months," Harry pointed out.

Suddenly, Ruth felt distinctly uncomfortable again. She had never found it a problem at any of her old jobs, the way she liked to pack up and leave at the drop of a hat. But none of her other jobs had put her in a position to be relied upon before. "Right. Well, I'll leave you to your walk."

"Do you know your way back into town? You're an awfully long way from Ros's house," Harry noted with slight concern.

"I was just out for a walk, myself. I like this street. These houses. The smell of the sea. I know my way back."

A small smile played on his lips. That was precisely why he liked walking this lane as well. "Right. Good. See you tomorrow, then," Harry replied, once again nodding as a way of bidding her goodnight.

The two parted and walked in opposite directions. Ruth looked back at Harry for a moment, wondering what sort of judgments he'd made about her and how best she could prove herself and be useful. Truth be told, it was a horrifically boring day, but she'd loved every second of it. She'd perused the police files on the computer and quietly observed the goings on at the station, drinking in every bit of information she could glean. It may have been quiet and uneventful, but Ruth couldn't wait to go back in the morning.

Harry paused at the corner to watch Ruth walk. She had a very lovely walk. She was a very lovely woman. And while running into her on this walk had been a nice surprise, he'd been unprepared to interact with her. He'd made her uneasy, he could tell. The way her eyes darted away from his and stared at the ground, the way she'd gotten quiet and awkward all of a sudden. He was still possessed with the strange feeling that he wanted to learn about her, bring her out of her shell and unearth the secrets of her heart. Soon. Perhaps he could find a better way to try that soon.


	6. Chapter 6

By the end of her second week, Ruth had gotten the hang of things. She arrived promptly by eight each morning, though she was always rushing in, always feeling like she was late no matter how early she woke. She worked diligently through the day, even managing to answer a few calls to send Ros and Jo out on. Most of her time was spent redoing the electronic filing system at the station. All the files had gotten digitized the year before, but the older files hadn't been catalogued properly. Ruth was having a devil of a time organizing them all but enjoying the process immensely. She enjoyed it so much, in fact, that Ros stopped bothering to tell her when it was time to go home and just left her working when she left at five. More than once, Jo had to gently tell her it was nearly eight at night and perhaps she ought to leave.

Always when Ruth arrived and when she left, Harry was in his office. They shared a nod and the smallest hint of a smile, but they hadn't had a full conversation since their chance meeting after Ruth's first day. She had noticed the way his eyes would linger a bit too long on her sometimes, though she didn't mind it at all. He always looked as though he was about to say something to her but never actually did. For her part, Ruth wasn't nearly brave enough to initiate anything with him on her own. But his constant presence through the window of his office was quite comforting, and for the time being, she was rather content with things as they were. Now that the novelty of a newcomer in town had mostly worn off, Ruth was being left well enough alone which suited her just fine.

One afternoon, however, Ruth received visitors at work. Fiona Carter, looking gorgeous and glamorous as always, blew through the door on an unseasonably hot spring day. Little Wes barreled through after her.

"Hello, everyone!" Fiona greeted brightly.

Jo waved pleasantly. "Hello, Fi. Hello, Wes."

Ros said a curt 'hello' to each of them as well before putting her head down and going back to her paperwork.

"Ruth, we came to visit you!" Wes said excitedly, pulling himself up to the counter that was just a bit too high for him to see over comfortably.

Ruth was delighted. "I'm so glad you did! Here, come 'round the counter," she instructed. Fiona knew her way around and led Wes into the main office area. "Wes, guess what sort of chair I've got?"

"One that spins?!" the boy asked excitedly.

"That's right! Here, spin all you want," Ruth offered, pulling her chair out for him.

He rushed right over and spun with a mighty whoosh, narrowly avoiding Jo's desk.

"Careful, habibi!" Fiona warned.

Ruth furrowed her brow in curiosity. "Was that Arabic?"

"Yes, actually. I suppose it slips out sometimes," Fiona replied. "I spent a lot of time in Syria before I moved here."

Immediately, Ruth switched into perfect Arabic, telling Fiona that it was a beautiful language of beautiful poetry. Fiona excitedly continued in deep conversation with Ruth in the shared language.

By this time, Wes had gotten a bit dizzy and bored of spinning in Ruth's chair. He stood up, wobbling a bit, and made his way back to Harry's office. "Hi, Uncle Harry!"

"Young Wesley, hello. What brings you here today?"

"We had a half-day at school, so Mum and I came to visit. And now she and Ruth are talking funny together," Wes told him.

Harry frowned in slight confusion. "Talking funny, eh? Let's go have a look-see." He stood up from his desk and took Wes back out to the main office.

And sure enough, there were Ruth and Fiona, chattering away happily in Arabic. Harry was a bit stunned to say the least. He'd had some idea that Ruth was wildly clever, but multi-lingual wasn't what he expected. Had she, like Fiona, spent time in the Arab world? She certainly had traveled quite a bit. Or was there some other reason for Ruth's ease of speaking such a difficult foreign language? Harry knew he wanted to find out.

As soon as Wes was otherwise engaged with Ruth and Fiona, Harry closed his office door and made a phone call. "Malcolm, hello, I was hoping you could help me out with something…Yes, we need some new software for our digital filing. I've got a dispatcher and office manager of sorts trying to work everything out, and I thought you might be able to help. And I need a bit of a favor from you."

When Ruth arrived at work the next morning, there was an older gentleman sitting at her computer. "That's mine," she stated with a frown.

"Technically, I think it's the property of the police department. But I take it you're Ruth, if you're the one being territorial about it." He looked up from the screen and smiled kindly. "Malcolm Wynn-Jones. I have a computer shop up the road, and I help with tech whenever Harry needs it."

"It's very nice to meet you. Sorry I was I bit…territorial," Ruth apologized. She felt like a right fool. In town barely three weeks and already trying to stake her claim? Very unlike her. Pathetic, really.

"Harry asked me to install some new software to help with digital filing and organization. Can I show you how it works?" Malcolm continued.

Ruth came around the counter and put her things in the file drawer before standing over Malcolm's shoulder.

"Right, so when you open a new case file, you'll input the information here, and the software will sort it for you. Here, why don't you put in your details, just for the time being, and I'll demonstrate all the features."

Malcolm stood up from Ruth's chair so she could put in her name—Ruth Catherine Evershed—and birthdate—April 29, 1970—and place of birth—Exeter. After that, he took over and displayed all the ways she could search the system and change the viewing to keep everything organized. It really was a superior system to what she'd been working with before. "Malcolm, thank you so much. This is a lifesaver," Ruth gushed.

He smiled brightly. "Happy to be of service. And if you need anything else, just give me a call. Harry has my number. Or you can just pop into the shop. If I'm not there, my partner, Colin, can help you."

"I'll do that, thanks."

With a polite nod, Malcolm picked up his briefcase and left the station.

Later that day, Harry got an email from Malcolm, fulfilling the favor he'd asked about. Harry smiled. He liked being reminded of why he moved to this little town all those years ago. Malcolm had grown up there and moved into his mother's house to care for her. Harry followed his old friend to town with his own family soon after. Malcolm's mother had since passed and Harry's family had left him, but the two old friends still had each other.

With a glance up, Harry saw that Ruth was, as always, engrossed in her computer screen. He turned to his own to open the attachments Malcolm sent. Despite the immense amount of material, it didn't take Harry long to go through everything. This was exactly what he wanted. Much more than he'd ever expected, but exactly what he wanted. Now all Harry needed was an opportunity to use the information he'd received.


	7. Chapter 7

The phone rang, and Ruth answered it to take down the information with practiced ease. Harry watched her from his office, tearing his eyes away from the files from Malcolm he'd been reviewing in order to formulate his plan. She looked very…competent. Natural, really. As though she'd been doing it for years instead of mere weeks. As she sent the information over to Ros, who asked Jo to join her, Harry couldn't help but be very pleased that Ruth had settled in so nicely. And even more pleased that they were alone in the station now.

"Ruth, would you like to join me for tea?"

She turned sharply at the sound of Harry's voice. "Oh. Um. Alright." She stood up and walked toward his office before realizing he didn't have tea in his office. "Shall I put the kettle on?"

"We can make it together," he offered. He held his arm out in a gentlemanly gesture to let her walk into the kitchenette first.

Harry started out slowly, hoping not to startle her, wanting to lull her into a sense of security before he delved in too deeply. Unlike their last little talk, this time he was prepared. He had a plan.

"How is it living with Ros? I can't imagine she's the most pleasant housemate."

Ruth gave a small smile. "She's as good a housemate as I am, I suppose. We mostly keep to ourselves. She likes to watch telly, and I like to read. She stays up late. I like to cook. I think she hates Fidget, but she doesn't complain to me about it, which is rather kind of her."

"Fidget?"

"My cat."

"Interesting name."

"Yes, everyone thinks so."

The kettle went off and they fixed their tea before taking it into Harry's office. Ruth had never been in Harry's office before. Well, she had, but that was only to tell him some news or explain a new case from the doorway or standing near his desk. She'd never really been inside his office and certainly had never sat down. But here she was, sitting on the edge of the sofa on the wall by the window, drinking tea, while Harry sat on the other end of the sofa beside her.

"This is a nice office," she said, trying to break what had become a rather awkward silence between them. Harry's eyes were on her, and she felt the need to do something. "The…erm…red wall. It's nice."

"Ros calls it a perverse display of masculinity."

"Ah." Ruth wasn't sure how else to respond to that statement.

"I have a question for you, if I may," Harry ventured.

"Yes?" she replied nervously, taking a sip of tea to give her hands something to do.

"How is it that you attended six different highly-regarded boarding schools and received dismal marks at each and every one before you went to Oxford and graduated top of your class?"

Ruth choked on her tea. "How do you know that?" she asked, once she caught her breath.

"I have your school records."

"How!?"

"Malcolm."

Ruth was appalled. "And to think, I thought he was nice!"

"Don't blame Malcolm. He only did it because I asked."

"I…" she sputtered.

Waving a hand, Harry assured her, "Never mind how he got them, just drink your tea, Ruth."

"Harry!"

He pressed on, "Just tell me why, Ruth. Why and how a clearly brilliant young woman managed to be thrown out of the finest schools in Europe. Tell me, and I shall never bring it up again."

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in annoyance but corrected him, "I wasn't thrown out, my mother had me transferred."

"Tell me why."

Ruth nearly responded, but her mind spinning and she stopped herself. "Why do you want to know?"

Harry paused. Why did he want to know? Well, he did know why, but he wasn't about to tell Ruth.

"You tell me why you want to know, and I'll tell you why I changed schools so many times." She watched Harry expectantly, sipping her tea with just a hint of a triumphant smirk.

"I saw you speaking Arabic to Fiona yesterday, and it made me curious." It wasn't a false statement. He was curious about her. But he didn't need to tell her that he was curious because he found her to be quite the loveliest woman he'd ever seen and everything she did and said endeared her to him infinitely more.

"You could have just asked me," she pointed out.

He gave a tiny, knowing smile. "Would you have told me anything if I did?"

Ruth muttered under her breath that he was absolutely correct in his assumption that she wouldn't have told him. And really, she should have known someone would ask her how she spoke fluent Arabic. Stupid of her to get so excited over the excuse to show off a bit and practice one of her languages. But Harry had told her why he wanted to know about her schooling, so she would keep her end of the bargain and tell him. "I did very nearly fail out of my schools, so my mother transferred me before an academic expulsion could go on my record. My grades were abysmal because I skipped two grade levels when I was little because I was highly advanced in reading and mathematics, and my primary school thought it would be better for me to be challenged."

Harry frowned. "How did you go from skipping grade levels to nearly failing out of schools?"

She swallowed another sip of tea and looked down into her cup as she explained, "My father was always very supportive of my education. He was the one who taught me to read and to love learning. And when he died, my mother sent me away. I think she thought it would be better for me to escape home and not be reminded of him everywhere I went."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven."

Harry's heart broke for her. Catherine had been eleven when Jane took her and Graham to London, away from him.

Ruth continued, "And I still loved to learn. It was all I had left of my father, that love of learning. I think I felt that if I somehow learned everything there was to know, it would bring me closer to him. But because I was a clever child, the first school wanted me to skip another year. I would have been twelve years old in a class of fifteen-year-olds. So I read every book and studied every subject as hard as I possibly could, and I purposefully answered questions wrong on all my exams."

"You failed on purpose?!"

"It was the only way to stop them from accelerating me. I wanted to learn more, not faster. I didn't want to start university before I was eligible to vote or get a beer at a pub. I didn't want them to take those years away from me."

Harry had to fight the urge to take her in his arms. She seemed so small in that moment—not that she wasn't already a petite woman—but just so vulnerable and incredibly sad. And he wanted to fix things for her, somehow. "And that's why you travel, is it? So you can keep on learning?"

"I suppose so. And I just got used to moving after all the schools." Ruth took another sip of her tea. "How did Malcolm get all my school records? Presumably using my name and birth date from when I entered it into the system this morning, but wouldn't it take time to contact the schools?"

He chuckled, pleased to have the mood lightened between them. "Malcolm and I met in my army days. We were in intelligence. I was in the field, and Malcolm was a technical officer. There isn't an institution on the planet Malcolm Wynn-Jones can't hack into. The schools must have been quite simple. I got the files emailed to me about three hours after he left here."

Ruth considered this for a moment. "He can hack into anything? Hmm. I wonder if he'd teach me."

"Why would you want to be a computer hacker? Where would you hack into?"

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh I don't know, Harry. But think of all the things I could learn that way."

Harry laughed. A proper, genuine laugh. And he was pleased to see Ruth chuckle a bit as she finished her tea.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth got over the invasion of privacy very quickly. Harry didn't bring up her school records again, as he had promised, and he didn't treat her any differently than he ever had. That was what she'd worried about, after all—that the more anyone knew about her, they'd treat her differently as a result. Harry spoke to her only slightly more than before. He would come by her station and ask her of any news when he came back to the station after his afternoon walks or if he had been out at a meeting somewhere. There was never anything for her to report, so they would converse about the weather or world events. It was friendly and light and absolutely nonthreatening. Everything Ruth could have hoped for.

Until one day she decided it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Ros, of all people, had convinced her. After a few days of the easy conversations, Ros brought it up to Ruth at dinner one night.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get Harry to talk to you," Ros replied, as though their topic of conversation should have been obvious.

"Oh. I don't…I don't know. Harry's always been perfectly friendly to me. Doesn't he talk to you?" Ruth asked, trying not to read anything in to what Ros was asking.

She shrugged. "Work and things. But with you he just talks. How did you do it?"

"I honestly don't know. Maybe it's because I'm new? He's just trying to make me feel welcome. And he does talk to you, doesn't he? You two go out to the pub on Fridays."

"I'm a drinking partner for him. I know he drinks alone in his office most nights, but I think he's aware of how horribly sad and pathetic that is. So one night a week, he goes out with me."

"So what do you talk about?"

"Work. Or else we don't talk at all."

"You don't talk at all?" Ruth couldn't fathom how that would be possible.

"No. We just drink. At the same table. And then we go our separate ways, and I usually find you here covered in cat hair and reading a book."

Ruth frowned, taking note of the hint of disdain in Ros's tone. "Doesn't Harry have any other friends? Surely he talks to Malcolm. They've known each other since their army days."

Surprise and perhaps the slightest bit of jealousy showed on Ros's face. "How did you know that?"

"Harry said. Isn't that right?"

"I've never heard Harry say anything about his army days. I didn't know he knew Malcolm before he moved here."

Ruth suddenly felt as though she'd done something wrong. "Erm…right. Well, I'll do the washing up, shall I?" She hastily got up from the table and took their dinner dishes to the sink.

Ros watched in disbelief and confusion as Ruth stopped in the middle of eating her pasta and cleared their half-full plates. As soon as the food was put away and the kitchen was clean, Ruth shut herself in her room.

It was a strange thing to think about for Ruth, being the subject of someone's interest. She'd certainly dated around plenty over the years, though no one ever really stuck. Usually, she'd feel a bit lonely or a bit in need of a good shag and find a man who seemed interested enough to take her to dinner and back to his bed. She longed for something more, but the risk required in finding a partner never seemed quite worth it before. It was always much better for Ruth that she keep to herself and move on.

But Harry, though…Harry was different. Why, Ruth still wasn't quite sure. But he was different. He showed his interest in the oddest of ways. He was curious about her, and he had gotten Malcolm involved in order to learn about her. He had sat with her in his office and asked her about her life over tea. He always stopped by to say hello nowadays. And it seemed that at least twice a day when Ruth looked up from her computer, he was watching her.

And, new and strange as it was for her, Ruth was flattered and enthralled by his attentions. He wasn't the most traditionally handsome man she'd ever seen, but there was something about his face that made her want to stare at him, trace all the lines, take those plump lips between hers, drown in the honey-hazel depths of his soft gaze. He was all broad and strong and powerful, and the way he carried himself with nonchalant confidence was immensely attractive. He was chief of police and a knight of the realm and extremely intelligent, and every single trait about him endeared him to Ruth more and more.

Ruth had made friends in this town, between sharing the house with Ros and teasing with Zaf at the market and sharing pleasantries with Jo at work and laughing with the Carters next door, but Harry was in a league of his own. If Ruth was honest with herself, she might admit that seeing Harry was her favorite part of the job. And if Ros was to be believed, it seemed like he might be interested in her as well. A truly thrilling prospect. Ruth decided it was high time she did something about it.

Every day, Harry would have lunch in his office while he worked. Zaf came to deliver sandwiches most days so they wouldn't all need to worry about taking time out to find food for themselves. When he was finished, Harry would leave the police station to take a walk, unless something urgent distracted him. He was usually back in about an hour or so. They all carried on just fine without him while he was away.

Ruth was very familiar with this pattern of his. And so, when Harry left after lunch the next day, Ruth told Jo and Ros she was going to take an actual lunch break and she'd be back in a little while. The police officers paid her absolutely no mind.

Feeling anxious and mildly embarrassed, Ruth pressed on and walked from the station to the lane overlooking the sea. She milled about near a house she quite liked. It had a green door and the paint was peeling slightly, but Ruth couldn't help but love it.

About a minute later, Harry came around the bend. "Ruth," he greeted in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Going for a walk," she replied. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"You knew I'd be here." Harry made the statement, implying the question of whether she'd intentionally sought him out.

"You did say you like this lane."

"I do."

"So do I."

Harry paused, considering his options, wondering what her being here could possibly mean, if he dared hope she had come seeking his company. "Would you like to walk with me?" he asked, holding his breath for her response.

"Thank you, I would," she replied politely. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she joined Harry down the lane.

It was clear as day that Ruth had orchestrated their meeting on purpose, but Harry chose not to mention it outright. He'd take any hint of interest Ruth showed him, and this seemed to be far more than just a hint.

Walking, it seemed, brought them both into a chatty sort of mood. Being away from the station and looking where they were going and at the scenery made Harry feel a bit brave with her. He'd ask her about herself and she would answer without hesitation. And, strangely enough, she would ask him things in return. In between listening to Ruth talk about her mastery of twelve languages and her love of Greek poetry and her affection for animals of all kinds, Harry found himself happily telling her all about his childhood in Yorkshire, his embarrassment over being knighted, and even his regrets and failings with his children. Ruth seemed genuinely interested in every little thing, though that fact had already been made clear to him.

And so they continued this unspoken routine every day. Harry would go out for his walk and wait by the house with the green door for Ruth to join him about ten minutes later. They'd follow the lane along the cliffs and on the outskirts of town for about half an hour when Ruth would go back to the station and Harry would return sometime after her.

For a week this went on, causal and lovely. They talked at length about the places they'd been in common, between Harry's duties in the army and Ruth's wanderings for the last decade. They'd both attended Oxford, though many years apart, but they'd shared some of the same professors, and they reminisced about the parts of the campus they'd enjoyed.

Harry began to become increasingly bothered by their time together. He loved talking to her, loved spending time with her; the more time he spent, the more he wanted, and the more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. But because they'd formed such an unspoken secret bond, keeping their walks away from public knowledge, Harry was at a loss for what he was supposed to do. Were they merely colleagues? He was her boss, after all, so was that all she saw him as? Was she seeking to spend time with him just to be friends? There wasn't a way for Harry to find out Ruth's thoughts or intentions in any way that wouldn't be horribly embarrassing, should she rebuff his affections—and his affections for her ran quite deep at this point, so deep that he was in grave danger of falling head over heels madly in love with her.

All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms, pull her against him and feel her hair between his fingers, press kisses to her gorgeous lips and pale skin. But he mustn't be too eager. Ruth had thus far been rather timid, and he was still her boss. It wouldn't do to press too far and make her uncomfortable and risk their working relationship, or worse, encourage her to run off and leave their little town far behind. But she had been the one to seek out his company and join him on his walks each day. And they had been doing this over a week.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harry took the leap, trying desperately to ignore the panicked pounding of his heart. As they walked down the lane, he reached out and took her hand in his.

Ruth balked for a moment, surprised at his gesture. But she looked over to him with a soft smile. And she gave his hand a squeeze. And she didn't let it go until she left to return to the station.

Harry continued his walk that day feeling like he was floating on the layer of marine fog that always drifted inland during that time of year. Not even the ocean mist could dampen his spirits.


	9. Chapter 9

The weeks often ran into the weekends for Harry; he was usually in the station on a Saturday with the same regularity as a Tuesday. He hadn't much to do, so he chose to be at work most of the time.

This weekend, however, was different. Young Wesley Carter got it into his head that Harry and Harry alone could teach him proper cricket batting form. Adam didn't mind at all, knowing that Harry probably did have better form, since he was the type to feel strongly about such things. So Adam had asked—begged, really—for Harry to come over on Saturday afternoon to give Wes some cricket training. Harry readily agreed. No begging required.

And that was how Harry ended up in the Carters' back garden that day. The fact that Ruth lived next door and he might get to see her somewhere other than the police station or on their short walks each day was merely an added bonus.

Ruth was off work that Saturday. She'd been working six or seven days a week for nearly a month now, and Harry insisted that she take the full two days off. "There simply isn't enough work that needs doing for you to be in so often, Ruth," he'd explained. "We all know you're a dedicated employee. No need to try so hard." He had been teasing her, but she was a bit taken aback by his words. She'd always struggled being overeager when she enjoyed something. Her stepbrother, Peter, had always scolded her for being too excitable, always left her feeling deflated when she tried to share her interests with him. Ruth had spent far too much of her life seeking approval from the men she'd admired; Peter had been the first in a long line, and perhaps Harry was the most recent. But no, Harry was different. Harry already liked her. Harry just wanted her to be happy, if his final farewell as she left on Friday was any indication. "Take the weekend off and do something for yourself," he'd insisted. And Ruth had smiled. She was still smiling.

She had decided to take Harry's advice and do something for herself. Ruth had a long lie-in on Saturday, snuggling up with Fidget and lazing about until late in the morning. She'd gotten dressed and gone to the pub for lunch and wandered around the shops on the high street, feeling the sudden urge to impulsively waste her money on a lot of things she wanted but certainly didn't need. It had actually been quite fun, returning to Ros's house with her arms full with bags of delightful little items. Colorful potholders to use in the kitchen when she cooked. Scented candles in beautifully decorated jars. Decorative figurines of frogs and rabbits and dragons. Ruth had never really owned pointless things like that before; she moved around too much and packing up items she didn't need was a chore she'd done without. But now, she had a sudden urge to fill the space she occupied with anything that made her smile. Ros hadn't been too pleased to come home after lunch and see Ruth's influence spread through the spartan living room, but Ruth held firm. She paid rent, she'd earned the right to have her own things occupy the space they shared for as long as they shared it. And by now, nearly two months after arriving in town, Ruth had committed to making it hers for the foreseeable future.

After explaining all this to Ros, who had held up her hands in defeat and settled on the sofa with the telly, Ruth went upstairs to light some of her new candles and take a luxurious bath. It was absolutely heavenly to be surrounded by bubbles and soothing oils and a myriad of delicious scents. Ruth hadn't indulged like this in longer than she could remember.

While Ruth was contentedly submerged in the bath, Harry was next door pitching to Wes, barking instruction each time the boy swung his cricket bat. "Pull your elbows in lower. Yes, that's it." Another swing. "No, you're leaning in too early."

After about half an hour of this, Harry could tell Wes was getting very frustrated with himself. "Uncle Harry, I can't do it!" he whined.

"Yes you can, Wes. Don't get discouraged. You're still learning," Harry replied, trying to be a bit gentler. He'd noticed Wes didn't seem to be his usual sweet self, but the boy was growing up and things were bound to change in him sooner or later.

"I'm no good at cricket." Wes chucked the bat to the ground and crossed his arms in a huff.

Harry had to try not to laugh. It was rather cute to see a little boy get upset, but Harry wasn't about to minimize Wes's feelings; that would only make him feel worse. "If you're no good at cricket, how come you wanted me to come help your batting form? I think you like cricket and you want to get better, isn't that right?"

"Yes," Wes replied in a quiet voice.

"Then why don't you pick up your bat, and I'll come position you correctly. We can try again. After all, it just takes practice. You'll get it, I promise." Harry walked across the grass to where Wes was reluctantly taking the bat in hand again.

As Harry made his way over, movement across the way caught his eye. He looked up at Ros's house and realized he was looking right into Ruth's bedroom window. He knew it was Ruth's bedroom window because Ruth was inside. And she was entirely naked.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat and his breath get caught in his throat. She was exquisite. He always found her lovely, but under those voluminous skirts and ill-fitting blouses, he could barely tell that she had a gorgeous figure. Her waist was narrow and her hips flared and her bum…oh Harry would dream of it for the rest of his life, he was certain. Perfectly firm and plump and pale and soft and utterly intoxicating. He briefly imagined what it might look like with his teeth marks. Every fantasy he'd ever suppressed about her, this brilliant woman who smiled when he held her hand and asked him about his life and seemed to want to share his world, all invaded his mind at once.

It couldn't have been more than five seconds he'd spent staring at her in all her naked glory, but it was long enough that he'd halted in the middle of the garden and all the blood from his brain rushed to his groin.

"Uncle Harry, are you alright?"

He jolted, remembering that Wes was right there. Harry coughed and tore his gaze away from the window next door. He suddenly realized that if he could see Ruth through the window, so could Wes. "Wesley, why don't we take a break? Yes, let's go in and have some ice cream." He quickly hurried over to guide Wes inside and keep him faced away from the window.

"But you were going to help my form," Wes replied with confusion.

"We can try again later." Harry took one more look up at Ruth, only to find that she had turned slightly. Her profile was now visible through the window and she'd lifted her arms to pile her hair on top of her head. The movement accentuated her breasts, pert and full. Harry groaned softly as his entire mouth went dry. He tried desperately to get the image out of his mind of affixing his mouth to her chest, swirling his tongue around her dusky pink nipples, wondering what sounds she'd make as his teeth grazed over them.

Ruth got out of the bath and wandered around her room, trying to decide what to do. It was a lovely spring day, but she didn't really want to go out again. The weather mocked her for even thinking she should stay inside and read. There was, however, a lovely garden next door. Perhaps she'd go say hello to the Carters.

Fiona, mildly confused to have Wes moodily eating ice cream in her kitchen with a very distracted and quiet Harry Pearce, immediately went to answer the door at the sound of the bell. "Hello, Ruth!" she greeted warmly. "We're all having some ice cream, would you like to join us?"

"I would love to, thank you!" Ruth replied happily.

Inside, Harry heard Fiona say Ruth's name, followed by Ruth's own lovely voice. He couldn't bear to face her. He wouldn't be able to prevent himself from acting a complete arse, from bungling the whole thing quite stupidly. And so, in a fit of cowardice, Harry retreated. He put his half-finished ice cream dish in the sink and hurried into the bathroom down the hall before Ruth and Fiona came into the kitchen.

"Wes, where's Harry?" Fiona asked.

"Bathroom," the boy replied, his mouth full of vanilla ice cream.

"Harry's here?" Ruth asked, feeling a warm bloom in her chest at the unexpected pleasure of seeing him.

"Yes, he's been helping Wes with cricket, hasn't he, habibi?"

"Sort of. I'm rubbish. I don't think Uncle Harry wants to help me anymore," Wes told his mother darkly.

"I can't imagine that's true," Ruth interjected. "Harry's the chief of police. It's his job to help everyone. It's what he likes to do. I'm sure he wants to help you the best he can."

Harry overheard Ruth as he snuck through the hall and out the front door. Later, when he was alone, he could pick through her words and try to determine their meaning. As it was, he was too clouded by that assault of lust to give much rational thought to much of anything.


	10. Chapter 10

Ruth had been mildly disappointed when she'd sat down for tea with Fiona and Wes to discover that Harry had mysteriously bolted. But he was a busy man who rarely took any time for himself; he worked almost every weekend, which was why she'd been surprised to hear he was at the Carters' when she'd dropped by. But no matter. She'd see him Monday.

Wes, however, didn't seem to take Harry's abrupt departure well, as far as Ruth could see. The boy was grumpy and somewhat violent with his ice cream and barely spoke to Ruth at all. But he was entitled to his displeasure, so she tried not to press him. She made a mental note to ask Harry about cricket with Wes when they took their walk at lunchtime.

When Monday rolled around, Ruth came to work feeling very refreshed from her weekend off. She smiled brightly at Harry through the window. He did not return the sentiment. His lips were pressed in a thin line and the look in his eyes seemed to almost be one of pain. She watched him with concern until he quickly turned his attention away from her. Ruth frowned, somewhat worried at his changed tone toward her, but she sat down and got to work.

At lunchtime, Harry was stuck on the phone. That wasn't too unusual. She knew he'd finish the call when he could and join her at their usual meeting place. She grabbed her bag and caught his eye as she went out. Ros was out on a call and Jo was diligently focused on her paperwork, so Ruth went on her way, assuming Harry would be following shortly.

Harry saw Ruth leave. He knew she was probably expecting him to join her. After all, that's what they'd done every day for weeks. But not today. Today he couldn't. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow he would be able to see her and not physically ache with want of her. He didn't trust himself to take a walk with her and hold her hand as though it were just another day. He wanted to reach out to her, hold her tight in his arms and never let her go, feel the warmth of her skin, smell her hair, taste every bit of her. Now that he had the image of her body in his head, he could scarcely think of anything else.

And heaven forbid she ask him why he was quiet, why he watched her with hunger in his eyes…what would he say? He couldn't very well admit to his obsessive lust, not when he had just recently gotten to a place where she was mildly comfortable in his presence. This revelation would probably disgust her and drive her away from his arms and even perhaps away from town. And he couldn't have that.

It was for all those reasons that Harry stayed in his office and behind his desk when Ruth had departed.

Ruth was gone for lunch longer than usual. So long, in fact, that Jo commented on it. "Harry, should I go find Ruth? She's normally back by now. Do you think something happened?" the young constable asked.

His heart sunk to his stomach. More than likely, Ruth was out on the lane by that house with the green door she seemed so fond of, waiting for him. "We needn't invade her privacy, Jo. Ruth is entitled to take more than half an hour for lunch if she chooses." He dismissed Jo and hoped Ruth would return soon and she wouldn't be too cross at him.

Ruth was indeed waiting for Harry by the house with the green door. Thankfully the day wasn't too cold or windy, so it was rather pleasant to be outside on that late spring afternoon. But as she waited, Ruth was plagued by the most horrific anxious worries.

Was Harry avoiding her? No, perhaps his phone call had just taken more time than expected. She should wait a bit longer in case he should show up. But he'd looked at her so strangely that morning. Was he cross with her? Had she done something wrong? They hadn't seen each other all weekend, which was rare in recent weeks. Perhaps something had happened to upset him. Had she missed something, being out of the police station for two whole days? Was it something else that had prompted him to insist she take the full weekend off?

On Friday, they'd had a lovely walk. They'd talked about their childhoods, how they'd both been a bit lonely as children. Harry had his brother, but he was forever protecting Ben from the world and fighting battles for his little brother. Ruth had been so very close with her father, but he'd been a very busy doctor and spent less time with her than he probably should have, only adding to her hero-worship of him when he had been able to pay attention to her. Had Ruth said something wrong? She knew that Harry had a strained relationship with his own children—had she struck a nerve in talking about her own father?

She had thought they were slowly getting closer. He held her hand whenever they walked down that lane on the cliffs, and she reveled in it. She'd even gone so far as to hold his hand and wrap her free hand around his arm so they could walk closer together, so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Oh he had such nice, strong shoulders. That muscly bulk made her feel so warm and safe. She'd thought about it, late at night sometimes, what he might feel like beneath the well-tailored suit, how he might hold her and touch her.

Ruth was getting ahead of herself. And for all she knew, something had happened to make Harry go off her. And if that was true, she needed to find a way to change his mind. She'd finally found somewhere that felt right, and Harry was what made it feel right, and if she lost him, perhaps she'd feel that urge to run again.

Finally, Ruth couldn't wait any longer. She'd been out for an hour already, and she needed to get back to the station. Harry obviously wasn't coming to meet her. And as soon as she returned, she would march into his office and ask him why.

She should have known, however, that her determined plan wouldn't be allowed to come to pass. The phone rang almost as soon as she walked in. Colin was reporting some vandalism at the computer shop. The summer was nearly upon them, and it was probably some of the local kids having a laugh over mucking about with the pretty window boxes of beautiful flowers that Malcolm put so much pride and effort into maintaining in front of the store.

Ruth took down the information and passed it on to Ros, who chose to take it as an opportunity to train Jo.

"You want to try lead on this?" she asked the younger woman.

Jo was pleased as punch. "Really? Can I?"

"I hope you can. If you can't, I'll take over. But sure, it's your case until you ruin it," Ros replied.

Ruth smiled, knowing after living with the woman for a little over a month that this was Ros being sweet. And she should be. Jo was so eager for Ros to teach her, and Ruth never quite understood why the seasoned detective resisted her role of mentoring Jo.

The two officers went out on their investigation, and Ruth got caught up in her file organization. Time ticked by swiftly and the light outside in the late afternoon began to dim. She looked up and saw that Harry was watching her. He wasn't smiling like he had been only a few days before. His eyes were dark and full of…something. Ruth couldn't quite place it.

With a determined huff, she stood and crossed the empty station to his office door. She opened it without knocking, as had become her custom. "Harry, have you got a minute?" she asked, plucking up all her courage to confront him, despite her thundering heart.

"What can I do for you, Ruth?" he inquired politely.

She detected a slight waver in his voice which confused her. "Are you feeling alright? I mean, did something happen over the weekend, or are you ill or hurt or something?" she asked him bluntly.

"I am in perfectly fine health," Harry replied, aloof as ever.

Ruth didn't like that answer one bit. "I expect your phone call at lunch went rather long?"

"No, it was only Towers on the weekly assessment. I was off with him after about ten minutes, same as always." Harry was being purposefully evasive. He couldn't believe she was standing there, talking to him as though it were any other day. As though he wasn't looking at her with desire he couldn't quite hide from his eyes. As though he wasn't gripping the arms of his chair so tightly he thought his fingers might snap off.

"Then did I do something wrong? Because I've been wracking my brain all day trying to think of why you're avoiding me, but I'm at a loss, Harry. I thought…well, I don't quite know where I stand with you and I thought I did when I left here on Friday and now…" she babbled.

"You've done nothing wrong, Ruth," he interjected softly.

She fell silent. If she didn't do anything wrong, what was going on with him?

Harry sighed. This was no good. He shouldn't have though he could just hide from her until he could get a proper handle on the situation. She was far too clever and timid and insecure to not worry about his behavior toward her. Of course she saw that something had changed between them. Because something had changed between them. What, on Friday, had been a light flirtation and gentle affection had been transmogrified into a fire of want that he'd successfully suppressed since the first moment he saw her. Christ, she was beautiful. That soft, dark hair that had tickled his neck when she'd leaned her head on his shoulder while they walked. That creamy skin that had always tempted him to touch and taste. And those eyes, oh but her eyes! That bright blue full of sharp intelligence and empathetic kindness and hidden wonder.

But now, as he stared into those eyes he loved so well, Harry saw hurt and sorrow, and he knew he was the cause. No matter how it embarrassed him, he knew he had to tell her the truth. She deserved to know why he'd been avoiding her, why he had refused to join her on their daily walk, why he was watching her despite the physical pain he caused her. He was rightfully ashamed by his stupid lack of control. Even now, his trousers were growing a bit tight thanks to her nearness reminding him of what he now knew she looked like beneath that cardigan and long skirt. But none of that shame was more important than making sure Ruth knew that he wasn't upset at her, that he didn't want her. Quite the opposite was the case, in fact.

"Ruth, I should tell you…"

He was interrupted by the ringing phone. "Hang on, Harry, I've got to get that." Ruth hurried out to do her job.

Harry exhaled in relief, trying to calm down and prevent a panic attack over this whole foolish mess. He watched her scribble down details before hanging up the phone and returning to his office. He was about to continue with his confession when he noticed the crease of worry in her forehead and the sheer terror etched in her face. "What's happened?"

"That was Fiona. Wes Carter has gone missing."


	11. Chapter 11

Harry felt the color drain out of him. Wes Carter was the son of his dearest friends and former colleagues. Harry had been at the hospital while Fiona gave birth to him, had babysat for the Carters more than once, and he loved Wes like his own.

He was trained to be a man of action, thinking quickly on his feet. But all of a sudden, his brain felt like mud.

Ruth, however, wasn't similarly deterred. "I'll send Jo to do a door knock, see if any of the neighbors have seen anything. Ros should go 'round to the houses of some of his friends in case he's there. I can call the library and the arcade and places around town to see if he's shown up anywhere. I'm sure Zaf would lend a hand if we need."

Harry was about to tell her yes, go do all of those things, which he would have instructed anyway if he'd been able, but they were interrupted again. Adam Carter burst through the door, shouting for Harry.

Both Harry and Ruth left his office and went out to see to Adam. He was a wreck, though no one was surprised.

"Let me help, Harry. I can help. Let me do something," he begged.

Ruth put a gentle hand on Adam's arm. "You're not a police officer, Adam."

"I used to be! I can be useful!" he insisted. His voice was hoarse with emotion, and his eyes were wild and filled with unshed tears.

"You can't," Harry replied firmly.

Ruth glanced at her boss, reading his face, and turned back to Adam, griping his forearm a bit harder. "You can't act as a cop right now. Your little boy is missing. You're a panicked father, and you can't be rational right now. And no one expects you to be. But you do have a panicked wife at home who shouldn't be left alone." She paused as Jo walked back into the station. "Adam, you stay here with Harry, I'm going to talk to Jo, and she's going to go back home with you, alright?"

Adam nodded numbly, responding well to Ruth's calm but decisive tone. She pulled Jo off to the side and explained the situation and instructed her to speak to Adam and Fiona together and try to get the facts of the matter—when did they figure out Wes was missing, how long could he have been gone, do they think he ran off or could someone have taken him?

"Jo, you call me when you know anything, alright? I'm going to get ahold of Ros and send her to investigate more around town, talk to friends and things."

"Of course," the younger woman replied. She was focused, ready to use her training for what it was meant for. "Shall I just give you the notes from the vandalism for now?"

Ruth sighed slightly, "Yes, as sorry as I am about Malcolm's flower boxes, we've got to put it aside until that little boy is back in his mother's arms. And just to warn you Jo, when you get there, Fiona called in earlier and she's an absolute mess."

Jo nodded, steeling herself. She spoke softly to Adam and led him out of the station and back to his house.

Harry and Ruth were once again left alone. "I was able to get him talking a bit," Harry told her. "There's no reason at the moment to believe there's been any kidnapping. Adam is under the impression that Wes has run away. But he and Fiona already called the homes of all his schoolmates and no one's seen him. That's when Fiona reported him missing."

"Right. That's good. Eliminates possibilities. I'll send Ros to the neighbors and then call his teacher. Maybe she's got an idea where he could have gone." Ruth rushed back to her desk to get started with her tasks.

Harry returned to his office, making a few calls of his own. First to Towers, since the Mayor should be alerted when a child went missing. After all, theirs was a very small town where nothing really bad ever happened, but Mayor Towers wouldn't take kindly to being out of the loop when anything of note went on.

His next call was to Malcolm, hoping his friend could once again hack into the limited surveillance cameras around town to see if any of them caught Wes going anywhere. Malcolm would get right on it and call back if he got anything.

Ruth entered his office again. "Ros is on the door knock as we speak. I spoke to Wes's teacher, and she told me he's been very sullen at school lately, much quieter than usual and not joining in with the sport during lunchtime. Other than that, she didn't have any information of use," she informed him.

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Ruth. Let me know if anything else comes up."

She turned to leave but paused. "You're close with him, Harry. Do you have any thoughts where Wes might be?"

He scrubbed his face with one hand. "I honestly have no idea. A week ago, I'd have never thought Wes would be the type of kid to run away. He's always been a good boy, really sweet and minded his manners and followed the rules."

She nodded. "That's the impression I've gotten from the time I've spent with him. Though on Saturday, he wasn't in his usual happy mood. But that was after you had to leave from his cricket lesson. He was probably just missing you; you know how children get."

"We didn't have the most productive lesson. Poor boy kept getting frustrated when he couldn't get the right batting technique." It also didn't help that Harry had completely abandoned the poor boy in order to avoid Ruth. Christ, he didn't need to be reminded of why he was avoiding Ruth.

A brief silence passed between them before Ruth broke it. "I suppose now we just wait?"

"Unfortunately, there isn't much else we can do now," Harry replied.

"I'm going to make some tea."

Harry would have suggested something stronger, but they needed to keep their wits about them. He didn't stop Ruth when she hurried out of his office and into the kitchen to start the kettle.

Ten minutes later, the shatter of something breaking echoed through the station. Harry leapt out of his chair to see what was the matter. "Ruth? Are you alright?"

She seemed to have dropped the tray with the teacups on it, luckily unfilled. But instead of cleaning them up, Ruth was standing stock still with wide eyes. "I know where he is."

"You do?"

"I was thinking about what you said, about the cricket. The park. Harry, I'd bet anything you'll find Wes at the cricket pitch."

At her words, everything slipped into place. Everyone had been far too emotional to put the pieces together. Ruth had been able to see the forest through the trees. "I'm going right now. Wait for me before you inform the rest, just in case he isn't there."

When Harry turned to leave, Ruth reached out to stop him. "Wait." He turned to her with a questioning look in his eyes. "He's been gone a while, and he might be hungry. Give him this." Ruth grabbed a chocolate granola bar out of the station's stash.

Harry took the wrapped snack from her, and their fingers brushed. For an instant, the entire world froze. It had been days since he'd felt her touch, and with all that had happened and the stress of the evening, the softness of her fingers stopped his heart.

But then the instant was gone, and Harry was off to bring their boy home. He walked quickly down the dark streets of town way off to the park. It was the only park in town, so it was quite large. A jungle gym was off to one side for the children to play, and a small building housing locker rooms and restrooms was on the other. In between were the sport fields for rugby, cricket, and football. And sure enough, sitting right in the center of the dark cricket pitch, was a small boy with blonde hair. His bat was on the ground beside him, and he was rolling a cricket ball on the ground in front of him.

Harry sent a quick message to Ruth. **Found him. Call off the search. I'll bring him back to Adam and Fiona.**

 **Thank goodness!** came her immediate reply.

"Bit of late night training?"

Wes looked up at the sound of Harry's voice and watched him approach. "Didn't think anyone would notice me gone," the boy replied.

Harry sat down across from Wes, choosing to wait before addressing that remark. He passed the granola bar from his pocket. "Hungry?"

Wes nodded and ripped open the wrapper.

While the boy ate, Harry asked, "Why would you think that no one would notice you gone?"

"Dad's too busy with his other teams to help train me. I'm not good enough to play with my mates at school. Mum doesn't care about sport. And you didn't want to stay to help me on the weekend." Wes picked up the ball and hit the dirt with it for emphasis of his frustration.

"You've felt a bit ignored lately, is that it?"

Wes nodded.

Harry tried not to let the guilt of his own complicity in such feelings get in the way of being there for the boy now. "Ruth came by to see you, I heard, but you didn't want to talk to her."

"She doesn't like sport either."

"There are more things in life than just sport, Wes," Harry pointed out. "Ruth likes books, and you enjoy reading. I know she'd love to talk to you about stories you both know or tell you about all her travels or anything else. And I bet if you wanted to talk to her about how hard you're working with your cricket, she'd listen."

"Why Ruth?"

"Because she likes you a lot, and she was very upset when she found out you'd run away. Your parents called your friends' houses and when none of them knew where you were, your mum called the station. Ruth answered the phone, and she sent everyone out looking for you."

"How come you came to get me? You're the boss, you're supposed to stay at your desk."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Everyone else was busy looking other places. And besides, I had a feeling I might be part of the reason you were upset, and I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have rushed out like that on Saturday. I'm afraid I got too caught up in awful grownup things. But I promise, Wes, you're much more important than any of that. I should have remembered."

Wes's face fell again, to Harry's dismay. "So you did forget about me."

"No, not at all." Harry paused, thinking of a way to explain this so an eight-year-old would understand. "It's sort of like when you know you're supposed to go to bed early so you can get a proper night's sleep, but you stay up playing video games. You might have fun in the moment, but the next day you're tired and you can't do anything properly. I should have been spending time with you, but instead the grownup things that aren't as important distracted me. I made a mistake, and I am very sorry."

Little Wes searched Harry's face for a moment and then must have decided he was being sincere. "I guess I've got to go home now."

"Yes, your parents have been very worried. They'll want to see you."

They stood up and gathered Wes's things before beginning the walk back to the Carter house. "Wes, can you promise me that you won't run off like this again? I don't think any of us could take the stress for a second time."

"I'm sorry I worried everyone, Uncle Harry."

"I know you are," he replied softly, ruffling the lad's hair. "And I'm sorry we all made you feel like you had to run away. Tell you what, if your parents say it's alright, I'll come over tomorrow after you finish your homework and we can get back to that batting lesson."

Wes smiled. "Yeah, alright."

Back at the station, Ruth had finally gotten everything reasonably sorted. After receiving Harry's text messages, she immediately called Jo to tell her Harry was bringing Wes home so she could inform Adam and Fiona. Ruth then told Ros that the search was off, telling the detective the report could wait till the morning so she could go home. Dmitri wouldn't be starting the night shift for another hour or so, and Ruth had plenty of work to do compiling the report on Wes Carter, so she stayed. She also called the Mayor on Harry's behalf, knowing how Harry tended to get grumpy after talking to Towers; anything she could do to help out.

Harry finally returned to the station after delivering Wes back to his parents. She smiled softly as he entered. "All's well that ends well?"

"Mmm," he agreed. "Why are you still here? It's horribly late."

Ruth listed off the things she'd done, talking to Jo and Ros and Towers and Malcolm. "And now I'm getting started on the official report. I'll add in notes from Ros and Jo tomorrow, but I figured I could compile everything else now."

"You already changed the case status from 'open' to 'pending closure'?"

"Yes, I did that first thing after I got your message. The report should be ready for your signature tomorrow evening, and then we can officially close out," Ruth told him, feeling a bit proud of her organizational skills.

"Ruth, would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"

She snorted a small laugh. "Well, that's quite a conversation shift."

"Less so than you'd think. Wes told me he ran away because he'd been feeling ignored, and I'd been a part of that. I don't want to spend my life putting off things that are important with the people who matter to me," he explained.

Ruth watched him closely, trying to pick up on the minute details of his body language that betrayed his nervousness at asking her out. It was thoroughly endearing.

She was quiet too long, however, and Harry began to babble. "I was hoping the French bistro might be nice, perhaps on Wednesday? I like eating there, and I might go on my own, actually, if you don't want to join me."

"You won't have to," she interrupted. "Go on your own, I mean. I'd love to have dinner with you."

"You would?"

"Very much."

Harry opened his mouth but closed it again very quickly, trying desperately to contain the excited grin that threatened to burst out on his face. "Good. That's good," he replied simply.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry watched Ruth across the table, staring down at her plate, wringing her napkin in her lap, her lips pressed together tightly.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes sparkling as her face broke into a beautiful smile. "This is wonderful, Harry."

"You're sure? You seem a bit nervous," he noted.

"Of course I'm nervous! You're you and I'm just me, and this is all just so lovely," she quietly gushed.

He reached across the table to take her hand in his. "I'm very glad you're you, and for once I'm quite pleased to be me, since I get to sit at a table with you at a little French bistro."

She ducked her head down again to hide her beaming grin.

"I'm sure you've been to France more recently than I have, but I do think this place does a fair job. I hope it's not a disappointment."

"It's perfect, Harry," she assured him.

He nodded, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting go and going back to the menu. The waiter came by and took their orders, returning quickly with the bottle of white burgundy Harry had chosen to go with the meal. Ruth's smile told him all he needed to know about her approval of his choice.

The waiter poured the wine, and they clinked their glasses to toast the occasion. Ruth took a sip and exclaimed, "Oh this is lovely!"

"I'm very glad you like it." Harry put down his glass and returned his full attention to her. "Tell me, Ruth, what's your favorite part of France?"

She considered a moment before answering, "Marseilles."

That response took him by surprise. "Really? Why?"

"Why not?" she frowned.

"From what I recall, it's all quite dirty and a bit dangerous and full of hideous tourists getting utterly shafted by local swindlers."

Ruth started to laugh. "Yes, but that's all part of the charm, isn't it? It's a seaside port town full of rich history and culture, but it's also got all this flashy, shallow tourism and posh resorts. And all those people all together? I find it quite beautiful."

"How very interesting," he mused, taking another sip of wine.

"And you? Do you have a favorite part of France? I'm sure you've been all over."

"Yes, but as I said, it's been quite a long time. I always loved Paris. Which is a bit of a cliché, I'm sure, but I don't care. There's nothing in the world I'd like more than to travel to all the great European capitals with the perfect travel companion. And Paris is where we'd start."

The interest in Ruth's expression was growing. "And who would this perfect travel companion be?"

"Oh it would have to be someone smart and kind, someone who can hold an intelligent conversation and laugh, but can understand the need for quiet at times. Someone who would appreciate the experience and appreciate it more to have someone to share it."

Ruth took a small sip of wine, trying to hide the way her cheeks blushed. Harry's tone had gone soft as he listed the qualities he looked for in a companion. Qualities he'd already found.

"And how about you, if you could take a trip anywhere, where would it be?"

"New York," she answered immediately. "I've never been to America, and everything I've seen in films and read in books, it just seems so big and exciting. All the people from everywhere in the world, getting to walk around those enormous buildings and be completely anonymous."

Harry regarded her carefully, trying not to feel threatened by her words. He'd known from the start that she might not stay for long, but he'd grown to rely on her at work and to crave her company every day. The thought that she still might pick up and run off without warning gave him more trouble than he cared to admit.

"Of course," she continued, "I haven't really wanted to go anywhere lately. I traveled all the time because I never felt at home anywhere before."

He picked up on that phrasing immediately. Before. She'd never felt at home anywhere before. Did she feel at home here? With him? "New York is an incredible place, and I'm sure you'll get to go someday," he replied simply.

Ruth just took another sip of her wine, watching him with those sparkling eyes.

After they finished their meal, Harry was loath to leave her. He never wanted this night to end. But he wasn't sure what he could say to continue their time together that wouldn't come across as an attempt to get her into bed. Not that he didn't want to—he wanted more than anything in the world to take her to bed and explore the delights of her body—but to come on too strong would only scare her off and paint him as a lecherous old man. The last thing he wanted was to upset or offend her, particularly after they'd had such a beautiful dinner together already.

Ruth seemed to read his mind. "Fancy a walk by the cliffs? I've never been up there at night before."

"The sea will be shining in the moonlight, I'm sure. Well worth seeing," he replied. Harry reached out for her hand and she laced her fingers with his.

Something happened while they walked in their lane with all those empty houses, chilled slightly by the early summer breeze off the sea, their path lit only by the stars and the moon. The air seemed thicker, making them slightly lightheaded. Perhaps it was the combination of white burgundy and romantic moonlight. They paused and turned, looking out on the water. Harry let go of Ruth's hand in order to slip his arm around her waist and hold her against him.

Ruth felt Harry's hand against her hip, his touch hot through the layers of her blouse and skirt. And something in her snapped. She turned to face him, looking into his eyes. "Harry," she whispered, getting on her tiptoes to lean in.

She felt him inhale sharply and quickly as her lips brushed against his. And in an instant, his mouth had crashed into hers. There was a strength and a softness in his kiss that felt utterly intoxicating. He had such full, expressive, pouty lips, and the way they moved against hers was better than Ruth had ever imagined. And she had imagined. She took his face in her hands, her fingers sliding along the lines of his cheeks and jaw, traveling around to the back of his neck to anchor him against her. Her mind went all foggy, devoid of all thought save the feel and taste of him. His hands moved up her waist and enveloped her in a tight embrace, pulling their bodies flush against each other. The beginnings of his arousal pressed on her belly and she let out a low moan into his mouth.

Harry stumbled back, pulling her off the path and into the relative seclusion of the porch on one of the vacant houses. He spun them so she was pinned up against the front door. His mouth moved down from her lips to trace her jaw and caress the column of her neck.

Ruth was lost amidst her haze of lust. She dug her fingernails into his scalp as he sucked hard on her pulse point. He had one hand on her bum, massaging her and grinding her against his hips, and the other hand crawled up to grasp her breast over her blouse. "Harry!" she gasped with want. She unconsciously hitched her leg up around his hip, searching for friction against him, for closeness to him, for heat from him.

She pulled his face back to hers and wasted no time sucking on his full lips and tracing them with her tongue. His own joined with hers, and the groan of desire he emitted made her knees go weak.

The wind kicked up, a gust catching them by surprise. Ruth pulled way ever so slightly, resting her forehead against his and breathing heavily. But when Harry went in to kiss her again, she had to dodge him. "Harry, wait."

At the sound of her hesitation, Harry realized what he was doing. Where his hands were. What he'd been about to do. He immediately took a step away, letting her leg return to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ruth," he mumbled, trying desperately to not think about the fact that he was about three seconds from reaching up her skirt and undoing his own trousers and taking her right there against that door with the peeling green paint. So much for not moving too quickly.

"No, Harry, don't be sorry!" She straightened her skirt and crossed the porch, putting her hands on his chest. "I just think this isn't the right place for this…here and now. And it is getting quite late. If I'm not home soon, Ros will notice, and I don't think it would be good for either of us if people start to talk."

He swallowed hard. "Yes, you're right." Harry placed his hands on top of hers, keeping his eyes cast downward. She was being very gentle with her rejection. But he keenly felt that if he looked at her eyes, his heart might break. Though that was probably just his wounded ego and raging libido talking.

She continued softly, "We should be in a big, comfortable bed when we make love, don't you think? We can't very well be out in the open like this. We'll have to plan better next time."

His eyes snapped up in surprise. "Next time? You mean you'd like to…?"

Ruth smiled, her eyes dark but sparkling in the dim light. "If you want to ask me to dinner again, I'd very much like to go," she boldly asserted.

"How about Friday?" he asked quickly. "I'll cook for you at my house."

"I would love that." She bit her bottom lip and then added, "I'm sure you've got a big, comfortable bed at your house."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Oh she was a minx! "And now I'm going to hate to go back to it alone." He sighed and took her hands off him, holding one and leading her off the porch and back to the path. "Let me walk you home, Ruth."

"Thank you, Harry."

Their final walk back to Ros's house was quiet. The air between them crackled with sexual tension, the anticipation of what was surely to come in just two days' time. Harry knew she was right, that their first time together should be done properly, that they both owed it to each other to avoid something as cheap as a quick shag against a door outside in the middle of the night. Harry wanted so much more with her. He wanted everything.

At last they reached Ruth's destination. She seemed visibly ill at ease with her eyes darting every which way. But at last her gaze settled on his face, and she seemed to relax slightly. "Harry, this was a perfect night. Thank you so much for dinner and…the walk."

He grinned proudly. "The pleasure was all mine. I'm very glad you agreed to go out with me."

"I was a bit surprised it took you so long to ask me."

"I…oh…I didn't know you wanted me to," he stammered, thrown off guard by her statement.

Ruth just leaned up and gave him a final kiss goodnight. "Well, now you know," she whispered. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Ruth." He stayed and watched her walk into the house and give him one final smile before closing the door behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

Ruth felt like she was walking on a cloud the next morning. She'd slept very well, dreaming of Harry and his fiery kiss and his masterful hands caressing her body. She sighed happily at the thought of what he could do once they'd gotten rid of their clothes.

She'd spent so much time indulging in her little fantasy in the shower that she hadn't had time to make any breakfast. Ros had already left to go to the station, so Ruth left some food out for Fidget and made a quick stop at Zaf's market for a pastry she could eat at her desk.

Zaf was at the front register, ringing up something for Malcolm. "Good morning, all," she greeted cheerily.

The two men were speaking in soft tones and laughing merrily as they looked at her, waving in response. Ruth found that a bit odd, but she was in too much of a rush and in far too good of a mood to give it much thought. Malcolm left, and Zaf rang up Ruth's little breakfast purchase with his signature cheeky grin. Perhaps a bit cheekier than usual. Yes, certainly odd.

All morning at the police station, Ruth kept glancing up to catch Harry's eye. Neither of them seemed to be able to stop smiling. But they were at work and they had to remain civil, so she stayed at her desk and didn't speak to him all day. She worked right through lunch, as did Harry, and Ruth knocked off early. "I've got an appointment at four today, so I'm off," she told him, popping her head into his office to say goodbye.

He nodded politely. "Have a good night, Ruth."

She turned to leave, but he stopped her.

"Oh, Ruth?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask if you've got any food allergies or dietary restrictions. You're not one of those insufferable vegetarians, are you?" he asked, suddenly seeming quite worried.

She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. "Harry, you saw me eat pheasant last night at dinner," she reminded him, keeping her voice low so as to not attract attention.

"I was far too distracted by the conversation and how beautiful you looked to pay a single bit of attention to what you were eating," he confessed.

Ruth ducked her head down at his brazen compliment. "I don't much care for pork loins but otherwise, no dietary restrictions of any kind."

"Duly noted, thank you."

Ruth gave a slightly awkward nod and hurried out so she wouldn't be late for her appointment. Though she needn't have worried; Fiona was rather free and loose with her appointment schedule.

"Perfect timing, Malcolm's just left. I'm going to pop to the loo for a moment and then get started with you. There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, if you'd like some, or otherwise just take a seat and I'll be right there!"

With an amused little laugh, Ruth let the harried hairstylist rush past her. She took her seat in the chair and stared at herself in the mirror. Ruth couldn't recall seeing herself look so bright and happy in a very long time.

Fiona was back quickly enough. "Right, I've been dying to get you in my chair. What are we doing today?" she asked, taking hold of Ruth's head and running her fingers through her hair.

"Just a trim, I think. I haven't had it cut in quite a while, but I think I'd still like to grow it out a bit." The memory of Harry's hand tangled in her hair as they kissed nearly made her blush. "So nothing too drastic. But I thought it might be nice to have a bit of a freshening up of sorts."

A sly grin formed on Fiona's lips. "You want to look nice, don't you?"

"Well yes, of course."

"Going out with Harry again?"

The blatancy of the question threw her off guard. "Sorry?"

Fiona didn't notice the terror in Ruth's eyes. "Malcolm saw you two at the bistro last night. He was all excited to tell me about it, but of course I saw you walk home last night. I was by the front window and saw movement, so I have to confess I had to watch for a moment. You gave him the sweetest kiss goodnight!" she laughed. "I would have never guessed about you two. Dark horse, is what Malcolm said, and he's right. But it makes sense, doesn't it? Harry's very guarded and gruff, but very sweet. And you're quite quiet and unassuming but so lovely and charming. And from what I saw last night, the both of you get along just fine. Who would have thought, though, our fearless leader gone all soft! So tell me, where's he taking you next?"

Ruth was sure she was about to throw up. Her heart was racing and her stomach was threatening to strangle her lungs. "Fi, I completely forgot I need to give Fidget his pills, can I come back a bit later? Or will that throw you off?"

The look on Fiona's face made it clear she didn't believe Ruth's abrupt lie. "You were going to be my last today, so anytime is fine. I've got to get dinner on at about seven, though. So any time before six thirty and I can take you," she told her, tentative concern dripping from her tone.

"Thanks." Ruth ran out of the Carter house as quick as she could. She went next door and up to her room, slamming the door behind her. Fidget jumped on her lap as soon as she sat down on the bed. She held the cat with one hand and put the other on her forehead as she tried her best not to hyperventilate.

So this was what Zaf was grinning about this morning. Malcolm must have told him. They were pointing at her and laughing. And Fiona, giggling as though she and Ruth were the best of mates and not two people who had only casually known one another for two months.

This was what she'd been afraid of. Not just here, but everywhere. People knew her, people thought about her, people judged her, people inserted themselves in her life. No good could ever come of that. Not her disapproving mother or controlling Peter or her well-meaning teachers or anyone else. If Ruth wasn't free to make her own choices away from unwanted influence, what was she to do?

And Harry. Oh, Harry! She'd been so very happy with him. She liked him, she wanted him, she adored him. And she was rather sure that after their dinner on Friday, she would probably be utterly in love with him. How could she do this to him? He didn't deserve the chaos that clearly came in her wake. She couldn't let that happen to him.

She stood up, Fidget meowing loudly at the indignity of being tossed to the floor. Ruth paced back and forth, wondering whether or not she needed to leave. She didn't want to, and she had rent due to Ros, and she had responsibilities at the police station. No, she couldn't just pick up and go. She'd stupidly allowed too many roots to be planted in the little town; it wasn't fair to anyone else if she ripped them up and ran away.

But there was one thing she needed to do. To curb further damage.

Ruth grabbed her purse again and went back out of the house.

Harry looked up when his office door was opened and then shut quickly. "Ruth!" he greeted with surprise.

She was leaning back against the door, staring at her boots.

Harry's pleasure at seeing her was quickly erased. "Ruth, what's the matter?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I can't go out with you again. I can't have dinner with you tomorrow."

He could physically feel his heart shatter in his chest. "Why not?"

"People know. People know we went out together, and they're laughing."

"Why should they laugh?" he asked, feeling thoroughly confused and dejected at such a statement.

"I don't know, but it undermines your authority, and that is unacceptable. You're police chief and people need to respect you, so no more walks by the cliffs or dinners or anything else. You are my boss and I am your employee and that is all."

Her tone was so definitive, but unshed tears shone in her eyes. Harry wasn't sure what to say to change her mind. As it was, his own mind was swirling with the sting of rejection and regret. "If that is how you feel, Ruth."

"It's how it has to be," she insisted.

He gave a curt nod. "Alright, then. I shall see you at the start of your shift in the morning, and I shan't bother you otherwise."

Ruth opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it again. She turned and left his office, shutting the door behind her.

Harry got a pencil out of his desk drawer and snapped it with one hand. He held the pieces tight till the broken edges bit into his palm. Harry pounded his fist on the desk once, the sound causing Ros and Jo to turn and look at him with concern. He didn't bother to lift his gaze to them.

He took a slow, deep breath, dropped the broken pencil in the bin, and got back to work.


	14. Chapter 14

Ros felt a seismic shift in every aspect of her life, and none of it was her own doing. How horrifically frustrating. At home, Ruth had gone all quiet again. She'd started out timid and skittish, trying so hard to keep quiet and out of the way, worrying about whether she was helping and contributing. Over the two months since she'd moved in, however, Ruth had grown more confident, friendlier and happier. There was a bright shine to her, as though she'd shown up in their little town by the sea as a dirt-covered rock, and the sea air and town citizens had succeeded in polishing her into a gemstone. When she'd been smiling and light, there was an incandescent loveliness to her, some sort of undeniable brilliance that was quite captivating.

But something had changed. Ruth now kept herself confined to her room. She was barely eating, barely made a sound. Even the disarray of her things that had started being strewn about in common areas of the house were disappearing. Colorful oven mitts were taken from the countertop to being shoved into a drawer. Trinkets adorning the end tables were hidden away. Even the piles of books Ruth seemed to keep lying around everywhere were now stowed out of sight. Whatever that shining jewel-toned light about her had been, it was certainly gone now.

Ros did try not to pay it much mind. After all, Ruth was just a lodger. She hadn't been in town long. And though she was lovely and brilliant and a good cook and an enthusiastic worker at the police station, Ros had very little interest in her. Perhaps Ruth was just prone to fits of depression or something of the sort. It had only been a few days. She'd probably snap out of it.

Home was one thing, but work was quite another. Ruth seemed the same as she always was there. It as Harry who had changed there. He'd cancelled on Ros for their standing appointment at the pub at five o'clock every Friday, and he hadn't been the same since. He'd always been gruff and grumpy and entirely too focused on the job, but something seemed to change now. He shouted a great deal more, and for very little reason, in Ros's mind. Harry's temper was shorter than Ros had seen in a long time. It was annoying, really.

Even sweet Jo had been bothered by it. "Is something wrong with Harry?" she asked Ros quietly one day when Harry had closed the blinds in his office and started yelling angrily on the phone.

"I'm sure it must be something. It's been almost an entire week of this nonsense. He was perfectly pleasant last week," Ros responded.

Jo glanced over at Ruth, typing away in fierce concentration at her computer, and lowered her voice. "I thought they were getting pretty close. Do you think something happened between them?"

"God, I hope not," Ros replied bluntly. "Dating at work is a horrible idea. Then if something goes wrong, you're stuck either getting a new job or suffering with someone you're forced to see."

Her face immediately fell. "Oh, yeah, I guess you're right." Jo returned to her paperwork in silence.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

All three women turned at the sound of Harry's bellowing voice. Ros and Jo and Ruth all looked to each other with concern about what terrors awaited after that outburst from their boss.

Inside his office, Harry was nearly ready to rip the phone out of the wall and march down to City Hall and pummel Towers himself. "We are a small station," he tried to explain, once his temper had dissipated down to a more reasonable volume. "Lord Mayor, I cannot leave only one part-time officer on duty for an entire weekend so my team and I can attend some sort of working holiday."

Towers sighed, "Harry, it's a two-day training seminar and it is required for every police force in the country to attend. If we don't go, the MP will defund the town, is that what you want?"

"No," he replied through a tight jaw.

"So you and your constable and your detective will go. And there's supposed to be an administrative representative. Constable Portman does that all, doesn't she?"

"We have got an administrator now. She's been with us nearly two months." Harry was instantly kicking himself for admitting that. Because surely what was coming next…

"Wonderful. Bring her along as well."

…yes, that's exactly what Harry had been afraid of.

"The four of you will have rooms booked at the Havensworth Hotel for next Saturday night. My assistant will make all the arrangements. You'll all go up on Saturday morning and return Sunday late afternoon. Sound good?" Towers asked cheerily.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with the deadest resigned tone he'd ever had. He hung up the receiver without another word, dropping his head into his hands. What a bloody nightmare.

He leaned back and scrubbed his face, trying to think. Today was Thursday. They had one day to make all their arrangements in town for their departure. Dmitri would need to be in fulltime. Perhaps Adam and Fiona and Malcolm would be willing to lend a hand as well. But before he figured all that out, he needed to break the news to his team.

Jo and Ros and Ruth all straightened in their chairs when the door to Harry's office opened. "We're going away this weekend. The four of us are mandated at a training seminar from Saturday morning to Sunday afternoon. Find someone to feed your pets and water your plants for two days. We can drive up separately, no need to pile into one car."

"Where are we going?" Ruth asked, interrupting his seething rant.

"Havensworth Hotel. We'll be sitting in a conference room all day, but it's a posh place, so pack accordingly," he grumbled. With that, he went back into his office, slamming the door behind him.

Ruth frowned, displeased by a great number of things. She gathered all her strength and walked across the office and through his door without knocking. "Sorry, Harry, but am I meant to go as well?"

"An administrative employee is specifically requested, otherwise I'd leave you here," he answered gruffly. He didn't even lift his head from the paper he was reading.

"Right. Um, also, I haven't got a car…"

"Ros can drive you. You do live together. Shouldn't be too inconvenient."

"Right," Ruth repeated.

After a moment of silence, Harry lifted his head. "Is that all, Ruth?"

Their eyes met and a wave of sadness flooded Ruth's heart. Harry's expression was full of such pain. Pain Ruth knew she'd caused. If she hadn't been so thoroughly traumatized by the memory of only a week ago when her personal life had become fodder for local gossip, Ruth might have rushed into his arms, stroked his cheeks, and begged him to let her ease his heartache. But she couldn't do that. So she just turned and walked away.


	15. Chapter 15

The seminar on Saturday was sheer hell. Ruth, never an early riser, was out of bed at six so she could pile her hastily packed bag into Ros's car and get on the road by seven. They needed to check into their rooms before the first program started at nine. Both Ruth and Ros were very quiet the whole way. Ros hated any form of forced group bonding nonsense and being told how to do her job by some motivational speaker or political government prick. Ruth hated that she had to go to this at all. Training for police forces shouldn't require a police dispatcher presence, but she was ordered to go nonetheless.

And, of course, she'd be stuck in a hotel with Harry for two whole days. It was one thing to try to ignore him at work, staying busy at her desk while he remained in his office, but sitting near him while they listened to boring presentations all day? Surely the universe was out to torture her.

Harry drove up to Havensworth Hotel in his own car in silence. He'd chosen to replace his utter heartbreak with anger, and so far it had worked out quite well. But this weekend would surely prove challenging. It had been ten days since he'd had dinner with Ruth, when they'd walked by the cliffs hand in hand and kissed passionately in the moonlight. Nine days since she had told him they couldn't continue their relationship because people were laughing at them. And in all those nine days, Harry still couldn't wrap his head around it. What had transpired to make Ruth change her mind so abruptly, and then carry on as though what had been building between them had been nothing? How could she throw away what they had just because of some town gossip? Was what people said so terrible? Could she really have cared so little for him that she was willing to throw it all away? Or had it all just been built up so much in his head out of loneliness and lust?

Throughout the first day of the seminar, Ruth sat firmly next to Ros and refused to look over to Harry, sitting next to Jo on Ros's other side. Both Jo and Harry kept looking over to the stoic women, but neither Ruth nor Ros gave any indication that they noticed the attention from their colleagues. Ruth just took furious notes on everything on her pad of paper, and Ros stared blankly ahead, probably thinking of the number of ways she could solve a hostage crisis in this room using only the materials she kept in her purse.

They were given a 'working lunch' with sandwiches available during the noontime presentation; they weren't given a break all day except for the ten minutes between each speaker. But finally they were released just before dinnertime. Jo enthusiastically suggested they all get a drink together at the hotel bar. Ros and Harry, never ones to turn down a drink, took her up on the offer. Ruth declined and headed right up to her room, claiming she had a headache and wanted to lie down. Harry watched her walk away, barely hiding the longing on his face.

Masochism, it had to be. Ruth didn't think she was the type to enjoy causing herself pain, but here she was, sitting in her hotel room on the laptop she'd borrowed from Malcolm—ensuring that she wasn't completely cut off from the goings-on at the police station—and watching her colleagues drink in the hotel bar. She shouldn't have been doing it, but it had been a few weeks since Malcolm had given her a few hacking lessons, and she wanted to try out her new skill. It had been shockingly easy to gain access to the hotel security cameras. And now she could sit alone in her room and stare at Ros and Jo chatting away for nearly two hours while Harry sat next to them, quietly drinking his whiskey and picking at the food Jo had insisted on ordering.

Ruth felt a torturous ache, watching him like this. A week should have been long enough to get him out of her system; after all, they'd only had one dinner date and one good snog. She shouldn't feel such raw heartbreak at the very sight of him. And yet, here she was, barely keeping herself from crying.

Jo had eventually gotten her fill and stood to say goodnight to her colleagues. Ros watched her walk away and downed her own drink, following behind her a minute later. Harry was left all alone. The palpable pain that gripped her chest was overwhelming as she watched him with his shoulders slumped over, ordering another whiskey and drinking it quietly by himself. She had done this. Ruth had turned a gruff, strong, powerful, witty man into this sad, brooding shell. He'd been so happy that day, when he'd nervously asked her if she had any dietary restrictions, so excited was he to cook dinner for her. She never had learned what he'd planned. Being with her and the prospect of what would come next had made him so happy. It had made her happy, too. She hadn't been so thrilled for anything in longer than she could remember. And then she'd ruined it for them both.

Harry finally stood up from the bar and turned around. Ruth caught a glimpse of his face for the first time and immediately shut the laptop. She couldn't take it. She'd hurt him so much, it was almost impossible to fathom how much he must have liked her if he was this upset about her turning him down for a second date. And hadn't she done that to spare him? To ensure that his reputation and job and focus remained where they should be? Fat lot of good that did.

Music from the room next door interrupted her reverie. The pounding of the bassline was pulsing through her body, it was so loud. She buried her face in her hands and was suddenly possessed with the urge to do something. Ruth stood up and went to the door before she could talk herself out of it.

Ruth rushed out of the room and down the hall when suddenly, Harry rounded the corner, rendering her a deer in the headlights, stock still and staring at him with wide eyes. Dear lord, was he coming to her room? What was he going to do? What was she going to do?

Harry saw Ruth and his heart dropped into his stomach. She was still dressed exactly as she had been earlier that day; despite her claims of a headache, she hadn't gone to bed like she'd said. And where was she going now? "Ruth," he greeted softly.

The sound of his voice seemed to jolt her back to reality. "The music. I couldn't sleep. I was…I was just going to see the manager about it," she stammered.

He could tell she was lying but he wouldn't press her. He just couldn't stop looking at her. Good lord, she was beautiful. The lights of the hotel corridor were surprisingly soft, making her creamy skin practically glow. And those eyes of hers just enraptured him. Before he knew it, Harry felt his feet carry him toward her.

"Were you coming to see me?" she asked, halting him a safe distance away.

"My room is this way. 1407," he explained, pointing down the hallway to the right.

"Oh, I see." Was that disappointment he saw in her eyes? But she continued, "Right, I'll just go see the manager about that music. I've never fancied europop."

She made to walk past him, but Harry grabbed her arm to stop her. "Ruth, please, I want to…"

"I'll see you in the morning, Harry," she said quickly, backing out of his grasp and hurrying back down the corridor from whence she came.

He stood there dumbly for a moment. Why wouldn't she just talk to him? Hadn't it been long enough now? Hadn't enough time passed to draw attention elsewhere in their little town? And they were far away from there now. The only people who might see them talking would be Ros and Jo, and they both saw him interact with Ruth every day without any trouble at all. Surely just sitting down to talk wouldn't hurt? Just so he could understand what was going on? He'd hoped he had earned that much, but if history had taught Harry anything, the universe didn't seem to find him worthy of much happiness.

Ruth practically ran back to her room. What on earth was it about that man that caused such a magnetic hold over her? That look in his eyes had been so dark, so desperate, so _wanting_. She knew he desired her, their near-tryst on the porch of that abandoned house had showed her as much. Of course she cursed herself now for stopping it before it began, now that she'd lost her chance to be with him.

All these thoughts swirled through Ruth's mind as she readied herself for bed, despite the early hour. She knew she needed to just hide away for Harry and from herself, and sleep was the best way to do that.

But then Ruth realized she was wrong. She hadn't lost her chance. She had told him no. And it was only her own insecurities and fears and concerns that kept her from changing her mind. And Harry was in a hotel room just down the hall.

"Be brave, Ruth," she whispered to herself, throwing on her dressing gown and slippers and leaving her hotel room once again.

The music from next door was still going strong, though she'd tuned it out by now. She raced down the corridor to room 1407. She paused before knocking. This was it. No turning back. She rapped her knuckles against the door three times and waited.

Harry saw Ruth waiting anxiously before opening the door. "Ruth?"

She snapped. "Harry," she breathed, launching herself into his arms. Their lips locked immediately in a fiery kiss. Harry shuffled backwards into his room, pulling her with him and shutting the door behind her. Ruth felt him press her back against the door, kissing her deeply. His tongue caressed hers, his lips moving over hers, his teeth sensuously nipping at every place he could reach. He kissed down her neck and pulled the tie on her dressing gown, peeling it from her body. Ruth fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin. She moaned as he sucked hard on her neck, just below her ear.

The sounds she made rocketed directly to his groin. His cock was completely hard and twitched against his pants. "I need you, Ruth," he growled.

"Yes, Harry," she pleaded, pulling him as close to her as she could.

His hands found their way up her pajama top to her breasts, full and warm beneath his palms. She gasped for air as he rolled one taut nipple between his fingers. He pulled the top over her head so he could admire her now, wearing only her bottoms. Though not for long.

By this time, Ruth had managed to get Harry shirtless as well, and her hands clutched at his flesh desperately. But then, much to her displeasure, Harry pulled away.

He was breathing in short, ragged gasps. "Bed. You said you wanted a big comfortable bed."

Ruth shook her head. "I was wrong. I don't need a bed. I only need you."

"You were wrong?" he asked incredulously, his hands resting on her hips. "I didn't think you could ever possibly be wrong," he teased.

"Oh shut up, Harry!" she groaned, pulling him back into the kiss and getting to work on the button of his trousers.

Harry pushed her pajama bottoms and her knickers off her hips in one motion. Ruth kicked off the garments and she was left pressed against the door, completely naked. Harry wanted so much to explore her, learn every curve and freckle up close, feel how she could respond to his touch. But his erection was far too insistent for that now. And Ruth certainly didn't seem to mind, the way she was reaching for him. He moved his hands back under her thighs and lifted her into his arms. She yelped slightly at being picked up so swiftly, but she quickly captured his mouth with hers, nibbling on his lower lip. He pressed her against the door, trapping her against his body. His fingers found her hot center, tracing the wet folds and slipping one finger inside her. Ruth gasped his name, begging him to take her. Harry didn't need to be asked twice. It took only a moment to line himself up to her entrance and push his way in. She was tight and slick, though it took a few shallow thrusts to sheathe himself fully inside her.

Ruth nearly shattered in his arms to feel him fill and stretch her so wonderfully. She couldn't resist bucking her hips against him, encouraging him to move. He did so, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back into her. Their coupling was fast and hard and powerful. Ruth could only cling to him as his thrusts pounded her against the door, the friction bringing her to a shattering mess in mere moments. She couldn't recall ever being so aroused in all her life or ever being shagged so thoroughly. Ruth wanted to tell him how incredible he was, how perfect, but her words had all left her. Only high-pitched breathy moans passed through her lips. And quickly after her first, Ruth's second climax overtook her and rid her mind of all rational thought.

Harry's cock was squeezed in the vice grip of her orgasm, and he was powerless to resist spilling inside her. She still trembled in his arms as he stilled. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, leaning them against the door for support. Ruth's panting breaths on his neck were a welcome tingling that seemed to spread through every nerve of his body.

"And now to bed," she whispered hoarsely, tapping him on the back of his neck.

He chuckled lightly and released her, feeling the sudden loss as he slipped out of her and had to let her leave his arms. "I'm afraid I won't be much good to you in bed. I'm sorry to say I'm totally spent."

Ruth pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. "To sleep, Harry," she clarified. But she blinked, her mind finally pushing through the post-coital haze. "I mean, if that's alright…if I stay here."

Harry wrapped her naked body back in his arms, amazed by how nicely she fit there. "I want you to stay as long as you'd like. Preferably forever."

She smiled at him and went into the bathroom. Harry noticed she stumbled a little bit on her weak legs. He smirked proudly before picking up all their discarded clothes from the floor and placing her things on the chair in the corner and tossing his into the closet to be dealt with tomorrow.

Ruth joined him in bed, not bothering to put anything on after she'd cleaned herself up. She tangled her legs with Harry's and rested her cheek on his chest. He gently traced the curves of her body with his hands. She was just as soft as he'd imagined. And she smelled so lovely.

"Mmm you're wonderful," she hummed happily.

"Thank you, Ruth." Harry turned out the light and pulled her close to him. As his eyelids got heavy with exhaustion, Harry smiled.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry woke abruptly at the sound of his alarm the next morning. It took him a moment to remember he was at the Havensworth Hotel for a stupid police seminar and he had to be up and at breakfast in time to go to the first presentation at nine.

He stretched and felt his bad knee twinge, and he tried to think of why it would be bothering him. It took him another moment for the events of the night before to flood his memory. Making furious love to a gorgeous woman up against a door would certainly put unfamiliar pressure on his knee. He grinned as he rolled over to Ruth, but he found that his bed was empty on the side where she'd fallen asleep. His smile faded.

But at least he'd have all day in her presence again. Surely they could spare a moment to talk. He got out of bed and had a quick shower and shave to get ready for the day.

He found Ruth downstairs in the dining room having some toast and jam and drinking tea with her nose in the newspaper. "May I join you?" he asked softly, hoping he'd find her in a pleasant mood but afraid she'd be nervous or upset.

She smiled. "Oh please do." Ruth waited till he sat down before she leaned in and spoke quietly. "I wanted to get back to my room and dress and eat breakfast before you woke up so we could talk privately in your room, but I got a bit distracted by the paper."

Harry felt the tension leave his shoulders. Internally, he gave an enormous sigh of relief. "I hope that means you don't regret last night and I shouldn't take it personally that you left without a word…"

Ruth reached out and put her hand on his on top of the table. "No, Harry, I'm so sorry, were you worried?"

"I'm afraid I was. We weren't on particularly good terms when we got here and then…last night…"

"Was wonderful," she interjected. "Incredible, actually. You're rather incredible." She blushed bright red and ducked her head down in embarrassment.

"And you are beyond my dreams, Ruth," he replied, turning his hand so he could hold hers and give it a squeeze.

"Harry, we need to be more careful." Her tone changed suddenly; she was now urgent and gravely serious.

He was suddenly reminded that they'd had frantic and completely unprotected sex just hours earlier, and panic gripped his chest. "Careful how?" he asked warily, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

Ruth searched his face for a moment, confused. Realization dawned suddenly. "Oh! No, I've got an implant. Made things easier for traveling and not needing to worry about a regular doctor or getting a prescription refill or…erm…anyway, no, I just meant back in town. I cannot have people talk about me and about us, Harry. I can't stand being the subject of gossip, but I just want to be with you, if you want to. After…after last night, I mean, I…" Ruth was stammering and blushing and quietly admitted, "I made a mistake breaking things off last week, and I just don't think I could possibly give you up now."

Harry's heart beat madly in his chest, and he had to resist every impulse to lean over the table and kiss her right then and there. Instead, he merely gave her hand another squeeze. "I'll follow your lead, Ruth. I very much want to be with you, and I'll admit that I'd lost hope before last night. However you're comfortable, I'll be happy."

She smiled. "You're really very sweet."

He didn't have a response, so he merely stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

They broke apart when Jo appeared for breakfast and joined their table. Harry did his best to appear unaffected and normal, but he couldn't seem to stop smiling. All day at the stupid seminar, he was in the most wonderful mood. Great sex with an amazing woman and the promise of more had filled his heart. Nothing could keep him down.

At the end of it all, Ruth, Harry, Jo, and Ros all took the elevator up to their rooms together. Jo and Ros were on lower floors and got out first, leaving Ruth and Harry to go up to their floor alone. Unable to resist, he took her hand in the elevator. She smiled as his fingers laced with hers.

"My room is this way," she said, indicating the corridor on the left.

"And you know mine's the other way," he replied.

Ruth nodded. Yes, she did indeed know where his room was. But Harry didn't seem to want to let go of her hand. They stood still in the middle of the hall, gazing into each other's eyes. Harry leaned in first, and Ruth was eager to meet him. They shared a rather sensuous and lovely kiss that Ruth forced herself to pull away from.

Harry sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "Ruth, I could kiss you all day."

"And if Ros weren't waiting for me to meet her by the car, I'd let you."

"Let me drive you back."

"Harry…" she warned.

He straightened up, knowing she was right. If he drove Ruth home, Ros would know something was going on. They had to maintain normalcy. Ruth needed them to maintain normalcy. "I suppose that wouldn't be very discreet," he conceded.

She cupped his cheek in her hand and gave him another kiss. "Tomorrow," she promised.

"Not tonight? When we get back?"

Ruth blushed bright pink and admitted, "I think I'll need a night off. I could barely walk back to my room this morning."

His eyes widened. "I'm so sorry!"

But she laughed, "No, don't apologize! I haven't felt this good in years. I'm just a bit out of shape, I suppose."

"I like you just the shape you are," he murmured, tracing his hands up her hips and waist and back down to rest on her bum, giving it an appreciative squeeze.

She jumped slightly at his touch, laughing again. "I think tomorrow we ought to resume our lunchtime walks."

Harry hummed happily in agreement. "I'd rather like to kiss you up on the lane by the cliffs again."

"Or perhaps we could walk to your house instead. I know you like to walk for the exercise but I think we've found a much better method."

He groaned with desire.

She suppressed a giggle. "Tomorrow, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow," Ruth promised, giving him one last kiss before she escaped his embrace and hurried to her room to pack and meet Ros by the car.

Harry whistled as he drove back to town. Quite a different mood than when he'd driven to Havensworth the morning before. Amazing how quickly things can change, he realized. He felt the same giddy anticipation now that he had after his first date with Ruth. And now there was no denying it: he was completely in love with her. But Ruth had made it very clear that she needed them to keep their relationship out of the public eye, and because he loved her, he would do his best to honor her wish. Though, he did hate the idea of sneaking around or lying to his friends and coworkers. Perhaps they should talk about that. After all, Ruth was still relatively new in town and hadn't forged the deep bonds with the townspeople as he had. He might keep well to himself most of the time, but he never felt like he wanted to hide anything from the Carters or Zaf or Ros or anyone else. Yes, he'd certainly need to discuss all this with Ruth sometime soon. But not tomorrow. Tomorrow they'd enjoy their workday and their little lunch break. He'd broach the less pleasant subjects later.

Ros and Ruth made it back to the house in record time. Ruth was eager to check on Fidget, whom she hadn't left alone for that long since she'd found him two years earlier. Ros seemed just as anxious to return to her house, though she didn't say why. Ruth did manage to pick up a few words Ros had muttered under her breath, which sounded something like 'Jo' and 'seeing Zaf.'

Ruth went straight to the kitchen to refill Fidget's water bowl and spoke softly to the big gray cat winding his way around her ankles. Ros milled about in the living room, looking out the front window and pacing around. Movement in front of the Carters' house got her attention. Jo had walked up the road, watching Ros's house for a moment. Fiona appeared and ushered Jo inside.

Ros scowled and picked up a book, glancing up every so often as she tried to read from the armchair by the window. The sky outside grew dark. Ruth had offered to make dinner, and Ros made a vague noise in agreement. Eventually, the porch light at the Carters' came on, and the front door opened again. Jo came out and gave Fiona a big hug before walking out to her own home.

A loud clattering got Ruth's attention. "Ros, everything alright?"

It wasn't till then that Ros realized she'd dropped her book. "Yes, fine." She stood up and went to the kitchen. "Wine with dinner?" she offered.

Ruth agreed to that happily, suggesting a nice white wine to go with the pasta she was making. Ros opened something and drank a full glass very quickly. After that, she regained some of her better humor and seemed like herself again.

The next morning at work was one of the strangest Ruth had experienced yet. She was nervous that she or Harry would do something to tip people off that they were together. As it was, she couldn't help but look at him every two minutes or so, and she was certain that Ros would be able to see the heat in her gaze whenever Ruth caught Harry's eye. Lunchtime couldn't come soon enough. It had been just over a full day since he'd shagged her up against the hotel room door—the memory of which sent a tingling sensation all through her body—and she was aching to have him again, in his bed, taking their time with each other. She wanted to see him and feel him and learn him over and over and over.

Jo arrived for her shift at ten, as usual. However, she was sporting a brand new haircut. Fiona had outdone herself with this one. Jo's honeyed shoulder-length waves had been dyed a pale blonde and given a short pixie cut.

Ruth immediately gushed praise over the change. "Jo, that really suits you! Do you love it?"

"It's really different," the younger woman laughed. She turned to the other woman in the room. "Ros, what do you think?"

Ros was standing, staring at Jo with wide, nearly frightened eyes. She didn't say a word.

Jo's expression turned worried. "Oh you hate it, don't you? Shit, I knew I shouldn't have…" She looked about to cry.

"No, I don't hate it," Ros corrected quickly. "I just…you…" She huffed in frustration. "You're just too pretty!" Ros bolted from the station without looking backward.

Both Jo and Ruth were mildly shocked at Ros's little outburst and quick departure. Harry had come out of his office to see what was going on. "Good morning, Jo. Lovely new haircut," he complimented. "Ruth, where's Ros gone?" he asked.

"I'm not quite sure. But she's got her mobile. I'll ring her if she'd needed," Ruth replied.

Harry nodded and went back to his desk. Jo went to her own desk and quietly got to work, clearly feeling uncomfortable over what had transpired with Ros.

At lunchtime, Ros still hadn't returned to the station. But it was a very slow morning. Zaf came by at noon to deliver sandwiches. Harry got one for himself. Ruth declined, since she was eagerly planning to take a lunch break outside the station a little later. Zaf hung around and ate a sandwich of his own with Jo, entertaining her and making her laugh. All her dismay over Ros had vanished.

Harry departed a little while later, informing everyone he'd be at home for an hour or so to take care of a few things, in case he was needed, and he'd be back later in the afternoon. He subtly dropped a folded slip of paper by Ruth's elbow as he walked past. She waited till Jo and Zaf were occupied with each other before unfolding it. Harry had written his address and underneath, a small note: _Ten minutes. I can't wait to have you. X_

Ruth had to bite her bottom lip to keep from grinning madly. Her heart pounded in her chest as desire coiled in her belly. She watched the clock on her computer tick by, and as soon as ten minutes had gone by, she told Jo she was getting some lunch. Jo was used to this and simply waved Ruth off.

She walked quickly to Harry's house. It wasn't too far from the cliffside lane they liked to walk, but it was a much more secluded house than the abandoned ones, and much smaller. The front door opened as Ruth approached it, and she walked right in.

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her deeply. Ruth had to pull away to catch her breath. "Goodness!"

"We've only got an hour and I intend to have you naked for all of it," he growled.

Ruth shivered at his words. "Where's that bed of yours we seem to keep talking about?" she asked, her voice breathy with arousal.

Harry just leaned in to kiss her again, and they stumbled together up the stairs. He quickly stripped her down and pulled back the sheets on his bed for her to get in.

"And now you," she requested with a nod, indicating that he should be as naked as she.

He had already removed his tie upon arriving home, so he unbuttoned his shirt as fast as his fingers would let him. Ruth watched with a hungry grin, shivering slightly with anticipation and the cold of the room on her bare skin. She tried to pull the sheet up over her but Harry took it out of her hand. "I want to look at you," he said in a gravely voice. Ruth complied and by the time he was completely undressed, his desire for her was evident. She hadn't gotten a proper look the other night in their furious coupling and subsequent sleep. No wonder she had trouble walking the morning after.

"Take me, Harry," she begged, opening her arms to him.

He grinned brilliantly. "I intend to. But first, I'm going to taste every inch of you."

Her eyes went wide and dark with aroused surprise. "How am I supposed to go back to work later?"

"I have every faith in your skill, Ruth," he replied, kissing her gently.

"I have faith in your skill too, Harry, and that's why I'm rather certain I'm going to need to sleep for a week after you're through with me."

Harry laughed delightedly and set to work, exploring every little bit of her beautiful body. Ruth lay back and enjoyed his skilled ministrations as his lips and teeth and tongue lit her aflame. By the time his mouth was between her legs, she was already crying out with pleasure and writhing with want of him.

An hour later, she stumbled back to the police station. Harry had allowed her to rest for ten minutes or so before she knew she needed to leave. But she had been absolutely correct. He'd certainly delivered on his promise. He'd delivered for her three times.


	17. Chapter 17

Ruth flopped back onto the bed. "God, Harry!" she panted.

He chuckled, rolling over toward her. "I hope that means you're happy."

"I'm very happy. I don't think I've ever been happier in my life. And not just because of the sex," she added, turning to kiss him through her smiles and his laughter. "Are you happy, Harry?"

He gently stroked her cheek. "Yes, Ruth," he replied softly. "I can finally say that I'm very happy."

"Finally?"

"I know it hasn't been that long since we met, but it did take us a bit of effort to get here. One dinner and you ran for the hills," Harry reminded her.

"But you were upset at me before that," she recalled. "That night Wes ran away. You wouldn't speak to me all day, and you left me waiting for you by the cliffs and never said why."

"Ah yes, that."

"Yes, that! I was so surprised when you asked me for dinner. I thought you didn't want me," she confessed sadly, remembering how hurt she'd been that day.

"Oh quite the opposite. I could hardly breathe, I wanted you so badly," he told her.

"What?!"

Harry knew it was time to finally admit to his folly. "I was out in the garden with Wes, and I…" He trailed off and sighed, "Ruth, you've got to get curtains on your bedroom window."

"You saw me naked?" she asked with surprise.

"Completely starkers." He ran his finger along her now similarly situated body.

Ruth frowned. "Did Wes…?"

"No, just me," he assured her. "And I absolutely lost my mind. You're so beautiful, Ruth, I couldn't stop imagining everything I wanted to do with you."

A coy smile played on her lips. "And have you?"

"Have I what?" Harry had distracted himself kissing her neck.

"Have you done everything with my naked body that you wanted to do when you saw me?"

A shiver ran through his body as he suddenly remembered what he'd imagined when he saw her that day. Harry hummed incoherently against her neck.

"Tell me. Tell me what you thought about." Her voice had grown husky with the arousal building in her from his attentions.

"My teeth marks on your bum," he whispered.

Ruth felt herself blush as she gasped. Harry pulled away from her, afraid he'd overstepped. But she was staring at him, her eyes dark with desire, and she bit her bottom lip with a hint of a smile. She rolled over onto her stomach, turning her head toward him. "Please," she whispered.

"Christ, Ruth," he swore under his breath. He felt himself get hard again, marveling at her effect on him. He hadn't had a recovery time like this since he was in his twenties. He kissed down her neck and bare back all the way to the generous swell of her bum. He massaged her flesh in manner very familiar to them both now, before he dipped down to press his lips to her. He listened to the beautiful breathy sounds she made and sunk his teeth into the juncture of her thigh. Ruth gasped and moaned at the pain and pleasure he created. He reached between her legs, pushing two of his fingers inside her as he hungrily bit her again. Ruth cried out his name, writhing underneath him.

Harry could hardly see straight, he wanted to be inside her so badly. But his pride and his love for her wouldn't allow him to do so until she came. Such was his need, however, as soon as he felt her begin to flutter and clench around his fingers, he removed his hand and mounted her swiftly, his cock getting the benefit of her orgasm as he plowed into her. Ruth pressed her face into the pillow to muffle her screams of ecstasy. It only took Harry a few powerful thrusts before he tumbled over the edge along with her.

Once they both stilled and caught their breath, Harry moved off her and Ruth rolled over onto her back. She reached over and laced her fingers with his. "I can't tell you how glad I am that we've got more than an hour today. We've not been able to take our time and go more than one round yet," she remarked appreciatively.

"At my age, I wasn't sure I was able to go more than one round. You see what you do to me, Ruth?"

She hummed happily. "Taking a half day from work today was a wonderful idea. I'm so lucky I've got a boss who lets me take time off," she mused.

"Well, that boss of yours is going to make you work all day on Saturday," he chuckled. "But for today, at least, we don't have to rush through our lunch."

"What lunch? I haven't eaten anything during the lunch hour any day this week!"

"Yes, I think we've certainly burned more calories than we've consumed as we sneak about during daylight hours," he conceded.

"We aren't sneaking about," she protested.

"Aren't we?"

She turned to face him and frowned. "Does it bother you?"

"A bit. But I'd rather sneak around and be with you than live out in the open without you."

"You're just enjoying the sex," she teased.

He laughed, pulling her back into his arms. "Very much. But it's more than that, Ruth. Being with you in or out of bed is absolutely marvelous. I…"

Whatever Harry had been about to say was cut off by a sharp knock at the front door. Ruth pulled the sheet up over herself, as though someone may have been about to barge into the bedroom.

Harry frowned. "Stay here," he instructed, hauling himself out of bed and throwing on his dressing gown to see who was bothering him now in the middle of the day. He answered the door. "Ros," he greeted in surprise.

"You aren't answering your phone," she said sharply, explaining her presence.

"I was taking a nap," he lied quickly. "What's wrong?"

"The mayor needs to speak with you. Something about the MP and funding and a meeting. I could barely stand to listen to his political dribble," Ros complained.

Privately, Harry couldn't help but agree with her. "I'll give the mayor a call when I return to the station later. Is there anything else?"

"Do you know where Ruth is?"

Her question caught him off guard. "I gave her the afternoon off. Presumably she's at your house.

"I just called my house to ask her to remind her to defrost the chicken for dinner tonight. She didn't answer," Ros explained.

"She could be any number of places. She's got friends, hasn't she? She does things. Why are you asking me?" Harry asked gruffly.

"You talk to her. You're friendly with her."

He shrugged. "No friendlier than I am with you."

Ros made a hum of disagreement.

"Pub tonight at five? Since it is Friday."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Then I'll see you later, Ros," he said, hoping she'd take the hint and leave.

She nodded and walked away without a word. That was probably the thing he liked best about Ros. She never needed to be hit over the head, and she never pressed and never bothered with anything that didn't concern her.

Harry closed the door behind him and went back upstairs. He was disappointed to find Ruth wearing his shirt. Though she looked absolutely delectable in it, he'd prefer that she wore nothing at all.

"Thank you for covering for me," she said quietly, keeping her gaze down.

"What's wrong, Ruth?"

"I know you don't like lying for me. I've put you in an awful position."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter. If it makes you more comfortable, that's what I'll do."

She looked up at him. "But that's not fair to you."

He sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, placing a comforting hand on her knee. "Take all the time you need, Ruth. I don't mind. I just don't want you to go anywhere."

Ruth knew what he meant, but an icy tingle took root in her stomach. "I'd better get back and defrost that chicken." She stood up and began gathering her clothes from the floor where Harry had left them after taking them off her. After dressing quickly, she kissed him one last time. "See you at work, Harry."

And with that, she hurried down the stairs and out of his house, leaving Harry far less happy than he'd believed he was earlier that afternoon.


	18. Chapter 18

The sky was dark and heavy with summer storm clouds as Ruth walked to the police station that afternoon. She'd left a bit later than she should have, but it was Saturday, so she'd given herself a bit of a lie in. When she'd left Harry the afternoon before, she'd been all out of sorts. Ruth thought about her warring heart as she walked through the whipping wind, about how it felt time for her to leave and move on to another place where no one would know her and she could be anonymous and left on her own. But another part of her didn't want to leave. She felt almost like a child being told to eat her vegetables; she knew what she was supposed to do because it was good for her but it didn't taste very good and she didn't want to do it. And was she really supposed to leave? Was there any real reason, other than habit, that she had to move on? Hadn't she always told herself that she was searching for a home? Wasn't this home? Ruth was honest with herself enough to know that she didn't know if this was home or not. She hadn't felt at home anywhere since she was eleven, so how could she recognize it if she ever did find it?

It was all too much to unpick at the moment, so she hurried down the road to the station, grateful at the very least that she could work in peace today while Harry was gone all day at City Hall entertaining the MP with Mayor Towers. She did love Harry, loved him fiercely, but surely there was more to life than just falling in love? Ruth had never wanted to be one of those women who gives up on herself and her own life just because of a man. She'd gotten her fragile heart broken too many times for her to allow such foolishness now. True, being with Harry was unlike anything she'd ever felt before, but she couldn't let that distract her.

Rain began to pour from the sky just as Ruth dashed inside the station. She removed her coat and scarf with a heavy sigh.

"Alright, Ruth?" Jo greeted from her desk.

Ruth smiled at the younger woman. "Yes, I'm fine. You?"

Jo shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I don't like storms. Everything always feels sort of off when it rains like this."

"Don't you often get summer storms?"

"One or two in the season. And I never like them. I keep thinking something awful is going to happen. The anxiety of it all is maddening," Jo remarked.

Ruth sort of understood what she meant. She gave Jo a sympathetic nod and sat down at her station to get to work. The two stayed quiet, all alone since Harry was out and Ros had the day off. The only sound was the storm raging outside and the clacking of the keyboard as Ruth typed.

The rain hurled from the sky for hours. The wind was howling and whole tree branches flew past the windows at frighteningly regular intervals. Jo and Ruth both jumped when one hit the side of the building with a mighty crash. The sky outside was dark with the setting sun and the thick cloud cover. And all of a sudden, the power went out.

"Oh no," Jo moaned in distress.

Ruth felt a flutter of panic, but she breathed through it. "It's alright, Jo. We've got emergency gear. I'll call Harry on his mobile and get further instruction." She pulled out her phone and went to ring him when she saw something even more distressing: no signal. "Oh hell, there's no service. The storm must have knocked out a cell tower or something."

Jo's voice began to waver. "Ruth, what do we do?"

"Well, if the phones are all out and we've got no power, we need to be available if anyone needs help. Since we are the emergency services. We'll need more help," Ruth reasoned.

Ruth stumbled through the dark station into the kitchen, where the emergency supplies were kept in one of the cabinets. She ran her shin into a chair and stubbed her toe on the edge of a door. By the time she reached the emergency cabinet, she was cursing with pain and annoyance at her own clumsiness. But she'd succeeded in finding torches and walkie talkies. Finally, some bloody light!

"Jo, I found these," Ruth said, making her way back to the main office.

Just then, the door opened, letting in a flurry of wind and rain. "Oh Christ!" Ros shut the door tightly behind her. "Is it just you two, then?"

"Yes, just us," Ruth replied. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Power's out at the house. I went out to see what was going on, and it looks like it's out all over town. And my mobile doesn't work, otherwise I'd have called rather than get soaked like some bloody sewer rat." She hung up her raincoat and practically collapsed into her desk chair. "Right. Ruth, what do we do?"

Ruth was quite taken aback. "Me?"

"Yes, you. What does Harry want us to do?"

"Harry is at City Hall. The phones are all out, so I haven't spoken to him."

"Okay, but what would he want us to do?" Ros asked, speaking slowly as though to a confused child.

"How…how should I know?" Ruth responded in a small voice.

Ros rolled her eyes. "Because you know him better than anyone. And obviously you don't spend your private time discussing disaster scenarios, but surely you've got some idea of how he would want to handle the situation? Or if not, what do you think we should do? You are the office manager, after all. Time to manage the office."

Ruth gaped at Ros, utterly confused. Ros had practically accused her of having a relationship with Harry, which was true of course, but how did Ros know? And how on earth had Ruth become the one in charge in this situation? But Ros clearly wouldn't be deterred. So Ruth swallowed her nerves and nodded resolutely. "Right. Um, well, we need more than just the three of us. Ros, you go to City Hall and see what's going on with Harry and Towers and the MP. Jo, you go see Fiona and Adam. They used to be cops, they'll be able to help. Wes can stay here in the station with me. Everyone take a radio so we can communicate."

Ros and Jo both bundled themselves up to go out and brave the storm. Ros was about to open the door when Jo placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "Ros?"

"Yes?"

"You…erm…be careful," Jo said quietly.

Ros looked as though she might faint. "You…you too," she stammered in reply. The two women went out into the rain and turned in opposite directions to follow Ruth's instructions.

Ruth was left alone in the station for the time being. Her mind began to race. Ros had made it to the station. Why hadn't Harry? Why hadn't Harry immediately insisted on returning to the police station when the power had gone out at City Hall? All sorts of worst-case scenarios flooded her mind. Something had happened to Harry. He was injured or dead. And the last time she'd seen him, she'd practically bolted out of his bed and out of his house. She'd never told him how she felt. She never got a chance to truly live a life with him. And wasn't that what she wanted? Or was she just panicked over the current crisis?

Static and a strained shout sounded through the room. "Ruth?"

Ruth scrambled to pick up the walkie talkie to respond. "Yes, Ros?"

"City Hall is stuck. The storm knocked down a tree and it's blocking the front entrance and the local drainage. There's a flood here getting higher every second. All the doors are electronically locked, so with the power out, no one can get in or out. And I know for a fact that the glass is bullet-proof, or I'd just shoot my way in."

"Ros, can you see anyone?"

"No, no one. But surely there are people inside."

"So you don't know if anyone is injured?"

"No."

Ruth's mind was spinning as she tried to pick a strategy out of the air. "Alright, Ros, go see Malcolm. See if he and Colin can try to get power or mobile service back anywhere. Let me know how you go."

"Right," Ros replied, signing off.

A minute later, Jo returned to the station with the Carters, all soaked to the bone. Wes immediately came running over. "Auntie Ruth, this rain is a nightmare!" he lamented.

She chuckled, trying not to feel too much in any direction at being called 'Auntie Ruth.' "Wes, you're going to stay and be in charge with me, is that alright?"

"Yeah!" he agreed enthusiastically.

"Wonderful." She turned her attention to Wes's parents. "Fi, Adam, thanks so much for helping out."

"Of course, Ruth. What can we do?" Fiona asked.

Ruth launched into their marching orders. "Jo, you and Fiona go patrol town. Check in on the shops, on the elderly citizens, anyone with young children, make sure no one is in danger. Adam, you go to City Hall and help Ros deal with the flood forming over there. And everyone take a walkie talkie. Adam, I'll give you an extra one to give to Ros." Ruth got on her own walkie talkie. "Ros, leave your radio with Malcolm so I can stay in contact with him. I'm sending Adam with an extra for you."

"I'm here, Ruth," came Malcolm's voice. "Ros has gone back to City Hall, wanted me to tell you."

"Thank you, Malcolm. How are you faring with the electric?" she asked, praying for good news.

"The whole grid is out, but I think it's just localized. It'll take some time, but I think Colin and I can manage it. The cell tower, though, that's a different problem. That's region-wide and I won't be able to do a thing with it till I at least have power back."

"Alright, keep at it, and let me know if you need anything from my end," Ruth replied.

Everyone went on their way, leaving Wes and Ruth alone in the station. "What do we do now, Auntie Ruth?" the boy asked.

"We wait, unfortunately. We wait for all the others to tell us what's happening, and then we figure out what to do."

"Where's Uncle Harry?"

"He's stuck in City Hall. Your dad's going to go help him."

"Is he okay?"

A chill ran down Ruth's spine. "I don't know, Wes," she replied honestly.

Wes seemingly sensed that Ruth was barely holding herself together. He crossed to where she sat and climbed up on her lap, hugging her tight. She wrapped the little boy in her embrace and held him close.

At City Hall, Harry had his hands full, quite literally. Towers had suffered a nasty fall trying to maneuver about his office when the power had gone out. Harry was holding the not insubstantial mayor in his arms, trying to keep him from bleeding too profusely. A pounding outside distracted his attention. "Mr. Matthews, I'll need you to take over seeing to the Lord Mayor," Harry instructed at the mousy, quiet MP panicking in the corner. "I've got to try to find a way for the medics to be contacted and reach us, and I'll need to speak to my team."

Matthews followed Harry's instruction, allowing him to rush out to the front door of City Hall. A fallen tree was off to the side and flood water rushed around. He found Adam Carter with a battering ram on the window. The rain wasn't as violent as before, but it was still coming down in buckets.

Adam saw Harry inside and paused. "Harry! Alright?" he shouted.

"We need medics!" Harry shouted back.

With a nod, Adam pulled out his walkie talkie and spoke into it. Ros appeared nearby, on her walkie as well. She gave a thumbs up and a nod to Adam. He turned back to Harry. "Malcolm's almost got the power," he yelled.

Right on cue, the lights returned to City Hall. And with the lights, came the electric security system and the door locks. Harry rushed outside. "Adam, where's Ruth?" he asked immediately.

"At the station, coordinating everything. I just radioed her to get medics here. Who's injured?"

"Towers. He'll be fine. He fell onto a glass table and cut his leg rather bad, but he's otherwise alright. You'll see to it?"

"Of course."

Harry nodded and rushed off. Adam watched him go and wondered if he should radio ahead to warn Ruth that Harry was on his way, but he thought that perhaps she'd enjoy that sort of surprise.

"He off to see Ruth?" Ros asked.

"I think so."

The smallest hint of a smile crossed her lips. "Good."

Ruth had just gotten off the line with the medics who were on their way to City Hall when the front door to the station opened with a crash. Harry strode in, full of purpose and soaking wet. He had a slightly crazed look in his eye as he crossed toward her. She stood up to greet him. "Harry, are you alright?" she asked desperately.

He didn't say a word until he'd taken her in his arms and held her tight, whispering, "I'm fine, Ruth. Are you alright?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine. I've been here, safe and sound."

"Thank god," he replied softly, breathing in the lovely scent of her hair.

Ruth buried her face in his neck, clinging to him, needing his solid presence to reassure her that he was here and he was just fine and not caring for a moment that he was getting her all wet and cold from his rain-soaked clothes.

"I was so worried about you. I couldn't get out of the building and I couldn't contact you," he murmured.

She chuckled slightly. "I was thinking the same thing. I was panicking that you hadn't come to the station like Ros did when the power went out. But you're sure you're alright? You don't need the medics?"

"No, it was Towers. He'll be fine, but I don't need anything else," he told her.

"Uncle Harry, are you okay?"

Ruth and Harry broke apart to see Wes standing alongside them, staring at them in confusion. Harry immediately turned to pick him up and hold him as tight as he had with Ruth. "I'm just fine, Wes," Harry assured him.

Wes hugged Harry around the neck and confided, "Auntie Ruth wasn't sure if you would be. We were scared."

"I'm sorry you got scared. I'll try not to scare either of you in the future. I'm so glad you're safe. I was worried, too." He looked over Wes's shoulder to Ruth, his eyes full of affection.

Ruth stepped closer to them both. She stroked Wes's hair and rested her head on Harry's free shoulder. And finally, she gave a sigh of relief.


	19. Chapter 19

A week after the storm, the whole town had dried out and gotten back to normal. The police station was calm once more. Harry on the phone and buried in paperwork. Ros and Jo going out on calls when they came in from Ruth. All was just as boring and predictable as it had been.

Ruth did become slightly more reticent about the public nature of her relationship with Harry, however. He tried to reassure her that everyone probably knew and no one seemed to care. Ruth had responded that regardless of who knew, they shouldn't be flaunting themselves around. Harry grumbled at this, as he'd been alone for a very long time, and he very much felt like he wanted to shout his love for Ruth from the rooftops. That, unfortunately, would have upset her very much. And so he remained discreet and quiet, holding her hand and kissing her only when there was no one else around. They arranged every other day for her to spend the lunch hour at his house, tangled with him in his bed. But that was all. She slept every night in her rented bed at Ros's house, and Harry retired to his own bed to breathe in the scent of her left on his pillow. All in all, frustratingly unfulfilling, in his mind. But he loved her dearly, and he hoped his patience would be rewarded, as frustrating as it all was.

The whole town was abuzz that week in anticipation of what everyone assured Ruth was the event of the year: the Carter anniversary party. Apparently, Adam and Fiona rented out the pub on the Saturday of their anniversary week every year. There was food and drink and dancing galore, and everyone always had a marvelous time. It was all anyone could talk about.

"Jo, fancy coming to the Carter party with me?" Zaf asked casually on Thursday afternoon as he delivered the sandwiches.

"Zaf, we're all going. And you live all the way on the other side of town from me. Makes more sense that we just meet there, yeah?" Jo replied with the foolproof air of practicality.

The smallest hint of a smile showed in the corner of Ros's lips, but she stayed very quiet.

"Ruth, you're coming, right?" Zaf asked, turning to her.

"Oh yes, Fiona would kill me if I didn't. But I'm not usually one for parties. I'm a horrible dancer."

"We all are," Jo assured her. "But we'll all get drunk and no one will care how bad a dancer you are. Everyone dances."

"Not everyone," Ros interjected.

Zaf rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we all dance, and Ros and Harry usually just sit there drinking and mocking the rest of us. Remind me why that is?"

"I don't like dancing and Harry's got that bad knee. We keep each other company," Ros replied.

Ruth looked over to Harry, on the phone with Towers again, and frowned slightly. She knew he had a bit of a bum knee, and she wasn't much for dancing anyway, but Ruth also had hoped that she might get the opportunity to dance with him. It was just as well, however. She knew they couldn't keep a low profile if they danced together in public, particularly if he was known to avoid dancing otherwise. She'd just have to enjoy herself at the party without dancing with Harry.

When the big event finally arrived, Ruth and Ros walked together from the house. Ros regaled Ruth with tales from anniversary parties of old. "One year, Malcolm had far too much to drink and he gave Adam a _very_ friendly hug. Zaf has gotten sick more than once. The year Fiona was pregnant with Wes, she spent most of the party crying because everyone else was drinking and she couldn't. Adam was too drunk to notice, so she sat with Harry the entire time and he was supremely awkward as she cried into his shirt."

"Oh I can't imagine he enjoyed that," Ruth laughed.

"Well, usually he leaves rather early. He only goes to celebrate with Adam and Fiona, have a few drinks at a table with me, and then relieves Dmitri at the station so he can have a chance to come to the party as well. I think Harry was glad to have something useful to do that year. And you know Harry, he's strangely sweet when he wants to be."

"Mmm," Ruth agreed noncommittally.

Ros looked over at her lodger and rolled her eyes. Utterly pathetic.

The music was already pounding through the walls when they arrived at the pub. The lights inside were dim and colored flashing bulbs decorated the dancefloor. The bar was quite busy. Ruth and Ros made their way straight into the fray.

"Alright Ruth, shot of tequila with me? If you do two, I'll give you a discount on next month's rent," Ros dared.

Ruth laughed and agreed, finding that she was equally delighted and confused by this party-version of Ros. They did two shots in quick succession, leaving Ruth gasping and choking.

"The night's just getting started! Don't get too carried away!"

The women turned to find Harry approaching with an empty glass. Ros grinned proudly. "Just getting her accustomed to the atmosphere. Can I get you a refill, Harry?"

"Please," he replied. Ros took his glass and turned back to the bar. Harry took the opportunity to speak quietly to Ruth. "You look very good in that dress." It took everything in him to resist tracing his hands along her curves, beautifully accentuated in the burgundy outfit she wore. It tied neatly at her slender waist and flowed down over her shapely hips. Despite the long sleeves, this dress showed off more skin than Harry had ever seen from Ruth in public. As far as he could recall, she'd never worn anything above her knees without stockings, and cleavage was something no one had ever seen her sport.

Ruth took pleasure in the way his eyes hungrily roved over her body. "I thought you might like it. I keep this dress in the bottom of my trunk, since I'm never brave enough to wear it. But the party seemed like a good opportunity. Something a bit festive and daring."

"And are you feeling daring, Ruth?" he challenged.

Before she could respond, Ros returned with drinks. "Shall we claim our table?" she offered.

The three of them all found places to sit up front by the dancefloor. This way they could watch and interact and be a part of the party without needing to dance about foolishly. Harry sat with his chair facing the floor, his back to the table. Ros and Ruth were each sitting on either side of him, leaning with their elbows on the table.

Adam and Fiona were right in the center of everything, laughing and dancing and kissing as though they were the only two people in the world. They looked unbelievably happy and in love. Ruth felt a strange pang of jealousy. She wished she could be brave like that, to love Harry without reservation. But it simply wasn't in her. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to let go so completely, to be daring, as Harry had suggested. She'd been brave at Havensworth, going to his room and letting the desire to make love to him consume her utterly and completely. But that was different. There was no one else around, and when she could be with Harry with no one else around, there wasn't any problem.

As the evening went on, it seemed that everyone except Ros, Ruth, and Harry was on the dancefloor. Adam and Fiona carried right on. Zaf was twirling Jo about, earning quite the scowl from Ros. Even Malcolm and Colin were dancing, rather stiffly, with some of the younger lads Ruth had met, Calum Reed—a teacher at the local school—and Tariq Masood—owner of the arcade next door to Malcolm's computer shop. Zoe Reynolds, Fiona's best friend from their school days, was in town for the party and delightedly danced with the boys.

Ruth watched them all longingly, wishing she could have fun like that. She was just too bloody frightened. She was the new girl in town, even after three whole months. And she still wasn't entirely sure she should stay. If she managed to make an utter fool of herself, shame and embarrassment might drive her back out in search of a new home. Ruth wanted to stay. She wanted this place to be home. She just still wasn't quite sure how to manage it.

"Care for a dance?"

She looked up with surprise to see Zaf holding his hand out to her. Jo had sat down at the table, laughing breathlessly and telling Zaf she couldn't possibly dance anymore. Ruth saw Harry watch with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, um, alright, sure."

Zaf took her hand and led her to the floor. As she left, she could have sworn she heard Jo ask Ros if she wanted to get some air. By the time Ruth looked back at the table, it was only Harry left sitting there, watching her with a smile.

"I'm really not very good at this," Ruth warned Zaf. It was the moment she stood up that she realized the effect of the drinks Ros had been plying her with. She had trouble keeping her balance while stone-cold sober, but now, she found she didn't really care. Focusing on remaining upright was taking all the space in her head usually reserved for her fears.

But Zaf just laughed. "Come on, Ruth. Have some fun. No one's watching. I certainly don't care if you're any good at this. Follow my lead and spin around and don't step on me, and we'll be fine."

"I'll try," she replied with a nervous laugh.

The next song started up and Zaf grabbed Ruth around the waist, leading her in a simple yet exuberant dance. She didn't step on him, but following his lead proved much more difficult than she'd imagined. He tried to spin her and she couldn't quite seem to manage it. They were both laughing much more than they were dancing.

Harry stayed seated and watched Ruth fondly. She and Zaf were having such fun. And while Harry wished he were the one holding her in his arms and making her laugh, he was pleased to see her so happy. The more comfortable she was around everyone here, the better they'd all be in the long run. And he so desperately hoped for a long run. She was so radiant in her joy; he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Zaf tried to spin Ruth once again. This time, she spun out of his hands, stumbling and laughing and landing right on Harry's lap. He caught her, indulging on having his hands on her hips in front of everyone. "Are you alright, Ruth?" he asked, chuckling at her adorable clumsiness.

Ruth was still laughing, but she quieted as she looked into his eyes. There was a curious expression on her face that he couldn't quite place. "I wish you could dance with me, Harry."

"I do, too, but I never dance, so if I did, everyone would know how special you are to me," he pointed out. Though having her sit on his lap like this was probably giving that away just as well.

She put her hand on his cheek and leaned in, kissing him softly. "I think they should know," she murmured before kissing him again.

Harry thought his heart would beat right out of his chest. "Dance with me, Ruth," he requested.

"But your knee, I thought you couldn't dance?"

"In the weeks we've been together, has my knee been a hindrance to anything we've done? I just use that as an excuse to keep from being forced to dance when I don't want to. But with you, Ruth, I'd very much like to dance."

Ruth grinned, standing up to take his hand.

Harry led her back to the floor. "Zaf, find a new partner," he barked, not letting his eyes leave the dazzling woman in his arms. "I think this dress is bringing out a bit of daring in you, Ruth," he remarked.

"No, I think that's you, Harry. Though now I think this might be my very favorite dress," she replied with a smile.

He led her in a gentler dance, fitting the slightly slower music now playing. Somehow, Ruth had absolutely no problem dancing now. Dancing with Harry was the simplest thing in the world. She finished each of his movements, as though they shared an intuitive understanding of each other. Perhaps they did. Perhaps the closeness they'd developed through their work, through their long walks, through their hours talking and solving problems and learning every bit of each other, had created this innate sense of one another. Whatever it was, Ruth had never in her life felt more at home anywhere than in Harry's arms.

"Harry," she whispered in his ear as they danced cheek to cheek, "Take me home."

"I'll walk you back to Ros's," he agreed, pausing the dance, preparing for their parting.

But Ruth shook her head. "No, to your home. I'd like to spend the night, if that's alright." She averted her gaze, suddenly terrified that he might refuse her.

He gently tilted her chin up to look at him. "It's more than alright, Ruth. I've wanted to fall asleep with you in my arms every night since we were in that hotel together. I want to wake up beside you every day."

Unshed tears of joy shone in her eyes as she looked up at him. "So do I," she murmured.

Harry opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it again, not knowing how to properly convey his feelings. In the end, he took her hand and said, "Good. That's good."

They held hands as they left the pub and headed off toward Harry's house. If they could have managed to tear their eyes off each other, they might have noticed that no one on the dancefloor noticed they'd gone. Or they might have noticed two lovely blondes locked in a passionate embrace outside against the side of the building. If they had noticed, both Ruth and Harry may have remarked it was about time and shared a chuckle. But as it was, they were both two consumed with love and desire for each other, eagerly anticipating a night all to themselves.


	20. Chapter 20

Harry had never smiled so much from just walking around his house. There had never been much to smile about. It was a simple house full of simple things, nothing too personal or interesting to speak of. He treasured his liquor cabinet, his record collection, and his bookcase. Otherwise, nothing else was really of much importance.

But now, little figurines and pretty candles and colorful pillows littered his living room. An enormous patterned throw was strewn over the back of his sofa. A stack of books covered the end table.

Ruth had made her presence known.

At first, he'd suggested she might like to have some of her things at his, since she was spending a few nights a week there. Then, he'd asked her for book recommendations—not that he had much time to read anymore, spending all his spare time with her. Soon, she had filled every empty space with a very specific Ruth-like chaos that warmed his heart. Harry had always just had a house. Now, it felt like a home.

It was all still very new, but Harry could not imagine that this sort of unbridled happiness would dissipate anytime soon. He loved her so much, he thought his heart might burst. She was a calming, strong, brilliant presence at work. She was a joyous, beautiful, magical presence at home. He wanted to listen to her talk for hours, and he would have, except that he simply couldn't resist kissing her at every opportunity.

Now was one such opportunity. Ros had the day off, and Jo was called out about a potential newspaper theft. "Should I really be leaving you two alone here?" she teased, making Ruth blush and Harry chuckle.

"We are professionals, Jo," Ruth pointed out, mumbling slightly in good-natured embarrassment. Gone was her mortification over anyone knowing she and Harry were together. She'd come to understand that everyone was happy for them, and nothing had really changed at all; she was just allowed to love Harry out in the open. And love him she did.

As soon as Jo had gone, Harry called Ruth into his office.

She stood in the doorway. "Yes, Harry, what do you need?" she asked, keeping the professional demeanor.

"You," he replied with a sultry smile.

Ruth almost hated herself for the way her heart fluttered at the sound of his voice with that seductive tone. "Harry…" she warned.

"Come on, Ruth, no one's here. Please."

"I'm keeping my clothes on," she muttered, crossing over to where he stood by his desk.

Harry laughed, utterly endeared by her grumbling. "Yes, clothes stay on at the station," he agreed. He took her face in his hands, caressing her high cheekbones with his thumbs, tracing her features with his eyes before leaning in and kissing her softly.

Ruth wrapped her arms around his waist, grabbing the back of shirt in her fists, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. She still couldn't fathom how this had happened, how she had lost all her sense for this charming, grumpy, middle-aged, beautiful man. But oh, Harry's kiss was like nothing else she'd ever known in this world. Those full, pouty lips of his moved over hers with a skilled passion that any woman would dream of. His hands were always so gentle yet commanding, sending electric shivers wherever he touched her. Ruth knew she'd never tire of wanting him.

A ringing in the distance sounded over Ruth and Harry's passionate moans as they continued their kisses. It was a ringing in her heart, in her mind, in her very soul. All for Harry. But…this was a rather familiar ring, rather annoying…

"Harry, the phone," she mumbled against his mouth.

"Let it ring," he insisted, his hands moving up and down her waist.

She finally summoned the strength to push him away. "It could be an emergency! I'm the police dispatcher. I can't just let the phone ring!" With one final scolding glance, Ruth tore herself away from him and dashed out of his office to answer the ringing telephone.

Harry sighed, knowing the romantic tryst next to his desk couldn't last. It was probably for the best, however. He'd been woefully distracted at work, staring at her out the window to where she sat, fantasizing about all the delicious things he wanted to do with her.

Just as he fell once again down the rabbit hole of his romantic daydreams, Ruth returned. "Just Fiona saying hello. Apparently Wes has requested our presence at his rugby game this weekend," she told him with a smile.

"I hope you assured Fiona that Auntie Ruth and Uncle Harry would be there."

Ruth beamed. "I did indeed. And I do like how nicely our names fit together."

Harry pulled her back into his arms. "We fit together quite nicely in all sorts of ways," he pointed out, his voice husky with desire.

She sighed happily. "Now, where were we?" Ruth wasted no time resuming their fiery kiss.

With less effort than one might have imagined, Harry lifted Ruth up and sat her on top of his desk. He pushed her long skirt up so it bunched around her hips, pleased that she wasn't wearing stockings on this warm summer day. She widened her legs so he could stand in between. As he kissed up and down her neck, one of his hands moved to palm her breast through her blouse and one crept up her inner thigh, seeking her heat. Ruth's head fell back as she gasped at his touch. He could feel how wet she was already, and he groaned against her in his arousal.

"Clothes stay on," she reminded him, though her voice was weak and breathy.

Harry pulled back slightly to smirk wryly at her. "Clothes stay on," he confirmed.

She eyed him curiously, wondering what naughty idea had popped into his dear head. Harry sat down in his desk chair and scooted up. He was eye-level with her waist. She reached out and stroked his ears, earning a happy hum. But Harry was undeterred. He lifted her skirt and reached beneath to pull her knickers out of the way as he dipped his head between her legs.

Ruth was taken by surprise as his lips and tongue went to work on her. She keened at the sensations he created and involuntarily grabbed his hair in her fists. Her hips bucked against his face as he brought her closer and closer to climax. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ruth prayed that Jo wouldn't return to the station anytime soon. She couldn't bear for him to stop, and they were in grave danger of being caught in the most inappropriate of manners.

But all thought, rational or otherwise, flew out of her head as her whole body coiled and snapped from the waves of pleasure crashing over her. She moaned his name, for all other words had been erased from her consciousness. Eventually she stilled, and Harry put her knickers back where they belonged, leaving a loving kiss over the wet cotton fabric before he reemerged from under her skirt.

"See? Clothes stay on," he said proudly. His own erection was straining against his pants, but he ignored it, knowing this wasn't the time or place for him.

Ruth was quite turned on by the satisfied but somewhat messy face smiling up at her. She leaned down to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips. It was all so tawdry and inappropriate, and she loved it. "Oh Harry, look what you've done to me," she thought aloud.

"I think I know very well what I just did to you," he teased.

"And I let you! I cannot believe I let you do that."

He was still grinning. "I'm glad you did. I've never had so much fun in this office before." Harry stood up and offered a hand to help her hop off the desk and keep her balance. "But I think it's best if you go now. I'm going to have to work late tonight, what with all the distraction."

She chuckled lightly. "I think it's your own fault, so I won't apologize." Ruth cupped his cheek and traced the line of his jaw. "But I do hope you won't stay too late. You need to get some rest so you don't get run down."

"Mmm, can't have me at less than fighting condition, eh?"

"That, and I don't like to see you so tired." She gave him one last kiss. "I'll stay in my room tonight, seeing as I do pay rent there. And I've been neglecting Fidget. I know he misses me."

"Can't say I blame him," Harry quipped.

"Get to work, Harry," she insisted, finally leaving his office. She closed the door firmly behind her, a blissful smile curling on her lips.


	21. Chapter 21

It came over the course of a week or so. The niggling feeling deep inside Ruth's heart, the quiet whisper in the back of her mind. _Time to go, Ruth_. She felt it everywhere she'd ever been. Sometimes it came after a few days, sometimes a few weeks. The longest she'd ever stayed anywhere was Cyprus, where a handsome doctor had swept her off her feet, only to beg her to marry him and become terrifyingly cross when she'd said no.

Here, though, this little town by the sea, this place was different. Why or how, Ruth wasn't quite sure. And perhaps that was why she was so upset, so distant and quiet. She felt like she should go, but she didn't want to. And she couldn't pinpoint the reason to stay.

"Ruth? Are you alright?"

She was shaken from her reverie by Harry giving her hand a squeeze and speaking to her softly as they shared a walk along the lane by the cliffs. "Fine," she replied, brushing off his question.

"I beg to differ. You're not usually so detached. You're very far away. Where are you?" he asked her, pausing their walk and reaching his free hand up to gently stroke her cheek.

Ruth let out a happy hum. Harry. Harry was the reason she wanted to stay. And because of that, he deserved to know the wild, nomadic clamoring of her heart, the wistful wanderlust that begged her to leave him. "I think I'll need to move on soon."

Harry heard her words and felt his heart plummet, his fears realized. "Oh?" He desperately wanted to appear casual, to school his face to prevent his deep sadness from shining through to her.

Taking his hand again, Ruth continued on their walk. Just as when they'd first started taking walks together, she found it was easier to talk to him while they were moving. She wasn't as distracted or nervous. The thoughts began to flow from her mouth without much organization at all, and for once, Ruth found that she didn't quite mind it. "I've been here for about three months. And it's really a wonderful little town. Everyone is so kind and good. But I don't really belong here, do I? I'm still the outsider. I don't really fit. This isn't my home."

More than anything, Harry wanted to grab her arms and shake some sense into her, to yell at her that she'd have a home if she'd only allow it. But he didn't do that. Not in that way. "Do you think it might become your home?"

She shrugged, either not noticing or not bothered by the nervous tenor of his voice. "Between my little rented room at Ros's and spending naughty nights in your bed, I can't imagine so. I've got Fidget and my books and my clothes in my trunk and that's all I've ever had. It's all I can afford. And that's always been just fine by me."

"And is it still fine by you?"

"I don't see any other option."

"Don't you?" he asked, his voice quiet and anxious. He'd let go of her hand and stopped walking. He couldn't seem to get his feet to carry him forward anymore.

Ruth turned back to him. "I won't be tied down, Harry. I won't be told what to do or where to go or how to live my life," she replied sharply, suddenly seeing George's beautiful but terrible Cypriot face in her mind.

"I would never presume to tie you down, Ruth. I…I care too much about you to ever wish on you anything you don't want," Harry assured her.

A lump formed in her throat quite suddenly. She swallowed it down. "Well, I haven't decided anything yet. Let's keep walking, shall we?" She reached her hand back out to him, realizing she'd completely spoiled the day. Ruth could have kicked herself. Always opening her mouth when she should stay quiet and remaining silent when she was supposed to speak. That, even more than her restless nature, was her curse.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they continued to stroll down the lane. The sea breeze was ruffling his hair. It was getting a bit longer, which she quite liked. More to grab onto, more of a defined curl to catch the light. He really was so very lovely. Yes, he lacked youthful definition in his muscles, but he was strong. Yes, he was a bit heavy and tired, but he was vigorous and sharp where it counted. Yes, he was grumpy and settled in his ways, but he was endlessly interesting and kind. And yes, he was clearly trying very hard not to cling to her too tightly, fearing what it might do to them both, but he had always treated her with respect and as one to be cherished. Harry Pearce was a good man. Flawed, certainly, but a good man.

It was Ruth herself who was the problem. How could she even contemplate wanting to leave when she had this wonderful man who wanted her to stay? Surely she must have something very wrong with her indeed. And she wanted to stay. She'd never been happier than when she was with him. But…was that enough? Was she ready to give up her entire life just to be with him? What if she stayed? What would she do? She had a job, however amorphous it had become. She had friends and a little boy who called her Auntie Ruth. She had a man whose passion made her toes curl and whose conversation never failed to fully engage her. Was that really all there was to it?

Harry could feel Ruth watching him, and it took everything in him to maintain a proper walking pace, to focus on appearing natural. And as the wheels turned in her gorgeous mind, Harry found himself pondering the situation for himself. He loved her and wanted her, that much was very clear to him. But he also understood Ruth's reticent, analytical, fiercely independent and practical nature. She was afraid of change when she couldn't understand it or prepare for it. She bristled at being too managed. Therefore, trying to trick her into staying or begging her to never leave him or anything else that backed her into a corner would backfire most spectacularly. The only thing for Harry to really do, he knew, was to respect her decision, whatever it turned out to be.

But Harry Pearce was not a man to sit on the sidelines and wait for fate to take the lead. No, he would have to take matters into his own hands and once and for all give Ruth a reason to stay. He needed to convince her that this was the place for her. This was where she belonged, here, with him. This was her home. It had to be. Otherwise, Harry wasn't sure what he'd do.

"Ruth?"

"Yes, Harry?" She felt the slight tug at her hand as he stopped walking.

"You will say goodbye before you go?"

The anxious, small voice he'd used nearly shattered her heart. Ruth wasn't sure she could bear saying goodbye to Harry, and if or when she did decide to leave, she wouldn't be able to do it if she had to look at the hurt in his eyes. The utter devastation a goodbye would cause them both was not something she wanted to consider.

And so Ruth did not reply out loud. She leaned in and kissed him.

In that kiss, Harry could feel the answer. She wouldn't say goodbye.


	22. Chapter 22

It took about two and a half weeks to get everything settled. Harry had been desperate to find a reason for Ruth to stay, a way for her to see that this was her home. And, in his humble opinion, he thought he'd done a rather wonderful job of it.

As he was scheming, he'd done his best to appear normal in every other regard. He didn't like keeping things from her, but thankfully she either hadn't noticed that he was hiding something or she'd decided not to question him on it. Either way, at least he didn't have to outright lie to her.

For her part, Ruth seemed to have let the issue of leaving fall by the wayside. She was just as pleasant as always, just as affectionate and playful with him as she'd been in the weeks prior. They'd gone out to dinner, they'd spent quiet evenings at his house, and they'd carried on at work as well as ever. Harry was mildly concerned she'd lulled him into a false sense of security, so he went on with his plans undeterred.

Finally the day had come. Harry was nervous, though trying miserably to hide it.

Ruth held his hand on their walk on that Sunday afternoon. He'd been fidgeting and uneasy, and she didn't like it; normally she was the anxious one, and Harry was always self-assured. "The sea is so calm today," she remarked, hoping to distract him from whatever was bothering him. "I don't think I've ever seen it so smooth, so impossibly blue."

They paused on the cliffside, looking out over the gentle waves. Harry smiled. "You know, your eyes are precisely that color."

"Are they?"

He turned to look at her adoringly. "Yes. Impossibly blue. As deep and boundless and mysterious as the sea."

"Spend a lot of time pondering the sea, do you?" she teased lightly.

"I spend a lot of time pondering you."

Ruth opened her mouth to reply but closed it quickly. She suddenly realized she had no response to that remark.

"Have you given any more thought as to whether or not you'll stay?" he asked her quietly.

"I haven't decided anything for certain. It's…it's a lot to consider," Ruth answered honestly.

Like a violent wave, the kind so absent from the sea that day, a thought crashed over Harry. And he couldn't stop it coming from his mouth any more than he could have stopped the ocean hitting the rocks. "Marry me, Ruth."

Her response was instant. "No, Harry. You can't ask me that. Not now. Not like this." Tears shone in her eyes that she wouldn't allow to fall. He'd been so patient and kind, and to do this now was a desperate ploy to tie her to him that rankled in its presentation. Not to say she hadn't imagined being married to Harry. At night when they quietly read on the sofa in his sitting room or cleared up the dinner dishes together or fell into each other's arms in his bed. But that was all just lovely fantasy. That wasn't real. And if it were, this was certainly not the way for it to start.

Harry sighed sadly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Well, I have something to show you." She'd refused his proposal, haphazard as it was. But he wouldn't shy away from his planned purpose. The idea of marriage had entered his mind too suddenly and it served him right to impulsively push Ruth into something without giving it property consideration on either of their parts. This, however, this he had given far more thought and preparation.

She followed him numbly down the lane until they came to a stop on the porch of the house with the green door. The peeling paint was very visible in the daylight. Ruth blushed slightly, remembering how she and Harry had first gotten lost in each other with her back up against this beautiful green door. "Harry…" she warned, unsure of what they were doing here, particularly following his sudden proposal and what seemed like his resignation to her rejection.

"I bought this house."

"Oh!" Whatever Ruth had expected, that wasn't it.

"For you," Harry continued. "And I want you to live in it. For as long as you like. Even if you don't want me there. I do want to try to make you happy for the rest of our days, but more than anything, Ruth, you deserve a home. And not just your cat and your trunk in a rented room or a few things here and there at my house. You should have a place all your own to fill with all your possessions and all your hopes and dreams, somewhere you can go to sleep and know its yours, where you're safe and happy. And so this is yours. I hope you can call it home."

Ruth stared at Harry with wide eyes, shocked at his gesture. Her mind was whirling with thoughts and emotions she couldn't seem to pick apart. More than anything, however, Ruth didn't get the same feeling with this as she did with his proposal. This was not impulsive, this was not a means of holding her down so she didn't fly away. This was a genuine and generous gift from his heart. And Ruth's instinct in that moment was not to turn and run, but rather she felt an unfamiliar bloom of contentment and excitement at the prospect that the house with the green door that she'd so admired was actually hers. She wasn't entirely sure how to express the thought, but Ruth knew she couldn't stay quiet, or Harry might get the wrong idea. He tended to babble when he was nervous, like when he'd first asked her out to dinner. And his little speech was so perfect, she didn't want him to ruin it. One certainty in her heart shined through the cacophony of everything else in her head, and Ruth summoned her courage to speak it aloud. "It wouldn't be home without you in it, Harry. Nothing about this place is home without you."

Harry was dumbfounded. He'd obviously been preparing himself for another rejection. "But you said no…"

Inexplicably, Ruth started to laugh. "You can't propose marriage like that! Not when we've only been together for a few weeks and barely known each other three months and most of that was me trying to pretend like I wasn't madly in love with you!"

"You what?"

"Harry!" she cried in exasperation. His confusion was starting to make her nervous.

But thankfully, he cut off her ranting by pulling her swiftly into his arms and kissing her soundly. Her lips immediately softened against his as they moved together. Harry released his tight hold on her to pull back and whisper. "I love you."

She chuckled lightly. "That's more like it."

Harry brushed her hair away from her face from where the wind was whipping it around. "Maybe I'll ask you again some other time. Though it seems I have got awful timing."

"Yes you do, but I love you anyway," Ruth replied with an affectionate grin. She caressed his cheek sweetly. "Let's go home, Harry."

His honey hazel eyes lit up with excitement. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He unlocked the green door. Ruth and Harry entered their home, hand in hand.


	23. Chapter 23

Ruth sat out on a blanket in the grass in her very own backyard. It was late in the summer but quite hot that day. She wore a dress that only reached just past her knees and her legs and feet were bare, sprawled in front of her. The light ocean breeze blew her hair and she pushed the wayward tendrils behind her ear.

She sighed happily. It was exactly one year since she'd first stepped foot into her very own house. And not once had she felt anything but entirely at home here. Ruth had made her commitment and not looked back. Her life before seemed nearly foreign to her now. Everything that had once been uncertain and shallow, allowing her to pick up and run at a moment's notice, now was filled with the simplicity and elegance of routine. Never once, however, was she bored. She was far too happy to be bored.

It was amazing to her still, how it all came together. Harry had taken her inside the house and shown her around. He'd already gotten a few items inside for her that he knew she would need—an entire wall of bookcases in the sitting room for her to fill, and a little cat bed by the fireplace for Fidget. Ruth had gone back to Ros's house later that same day and told her she'd be moving out, assuring her landlady and colleague that she'd pay the rest of the month's rent and apologized for the short notice.

"Oh you're off, are you?"

"I'll be staying in town but I've…well, I've got a place of my own," Ruth explained, unable to hide her excited grin.

"That's just as well. Good timing for it," Ros replied with a curt nod.

"Really? You've already got a new lodger?"

"No, but Jo is moving in."

Ruth gasped in happy surprise. "She is!? Oh, Ros, I'm really happy for you."

"Yes, thanks. Unlike you, I don't feel the need to waste time once I know the person I'm in love with is also in love with me."

Feeling the need to refute Ros's obvious disdain, Ruth squared her shoulders and proclaimed, "Actually, Harry's moving in with me. We've got a house on the cliffside."

Ros was suitably impressed by that. She'd helped Ruth pack up all her things and gave her a firm handshake, admitting that she would miss the way Ruth made dumplings. Ruth promised that she and Harry would have her and Jo around for dinner sometime soon.

And so life went on. The police station was as quiet and odd as always. Ruth did miss living next door to the Carters, but they were only a short walk away, and she got together with Fiona for tea at least once a week. Harry and Ruth both went to every single one of Wes's sports games. Malcolm became their closest friend, having dinner at the house with them every single Tuesday without fail. Never once in the entire year that went by had Ruth felt out of place or lonely.

The sound of a small snore took her attention. Ruth put her book down beside her and looked down at the dear face asleep on her lap. She regarded the lines on Harry's face, the softness of him like this in such a state of rest. Ever so gently, she traced every part of him with her fingertips.

Beneath her touch, he smiled and hummed contentedly. "Oh I do like that," he mumbled sleepily.

"So do I," Ruth murmured in return. She finished her exploration of his face and moved her fingers into his sparse hair, lightly massaging his scalp. "Happy anniversary, Harry," she whispered.

His eyes blinked open and he looked up at her with slight confusion. "It's not our anniversary. We've only been married four months." He should know when their anniversary was. He had already started making the arrangements to surprise her with a trip to New York for their first anniversary the following May.

She grinned, still pleased beyond belief that this man she loved so very much was now her husband. He'd had much better timing the second time around, planning a quiet but beautiful dinner at the French bistro for her birthday and taking her on a moonlit walk, just like their first date. It was on the porch of their own house, right outside the green door with its chipping paint, where he'd told her he loved her truly and deeply before taking a small box from his pocket and risking his bad knee to kneel down and ask her to marry him. They'd been married by the magistrate with all their friends present just two days later. The diamond and sapphire ring sparkled brightly on her finger in the summer sun. "It's the anniversary of when you first proposed," Ruth reminded him.

"But you said no so it doesn't count," he replied with a slight pout.

Ruth smirked. "I said yes eventually."

"Well I don't like to reflect on my first disastrous attempt."

"Regardless, it's one year since you first showed me this house. One year that I've had a home of my own."

Harry smiled. Yes, that was something worth commemorating. "And how has it been, this one year of having a home?"

Ruth paused for a moment, looking for the right word. "Strange."

"Oh?"

"It's sort of strange to be finished."

"Finished?"

"Finished searching," she explained. "I've been searching my whole life and now I'm not."

"And what were you searching for, Ruth?" he asked softly. He'd fully come out of his nap now and reached out to caress her bare calf.

Ruth looked down at her husband with love in her eyes. "You, I think. Because with you, I've got everything else. Love and friends and a wonderful job and a home of my very own. And I've got you."

"And that's strange?"

She laughed, "Well you're a bit strange, Harry."

"And you married me anyway," he teased.

"I suppose that makes us both a bit strange."

Harry sat up on their makeshift picnic blanket and leaned in to kiss her. He knew he couldn't ravish her out in the open in their backyard since they'd need to get going to Wes's rugby match in a little while. But for the time being, Ruth and Harry shared a loving embrace in the home they'd created for themselves on the cliffside lane of their little town by the sea.

 **THE END**


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